


I'm no Angel

by Deancebra



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Mental Health Issues, Child Abuse, Dean Being an Asshole, Dean and Mental Health Issues, Dean/Cas Tropefest 2017, Drug Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluffy Ending, Homophobia, Hospitalization, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Sam and Charlie ships it, Slow Burn, Soulmates, author is not nice, mentions of past suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 53,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deancebra/pseuds/Deancebra
Summary: Dean Winchester was a bigoted idiot. Castiel Novak had learned that before he even sat a foot to Hogwarts.After years of bullying, scowls and evil pranks, Sam and Charlie has had enough of listening to the two. Dean and Castiel is drugged with a potion intending for them to get their problems resolved. The potion turns out to have unforeseen consequences, leaving them with a soulmate bond neither Dean nor Castiel wanted.As they struggle to accept their new reality, their past's come knocking. Castiel learns that Dean grew up knowing what losing a soulmate does to a person.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For my muse and partner-in-crime [G. Talmont](https://www.wattpad.com/user/G_Talmont)  
> who has been my inspiration and sparring-partner whenever I stuck. 
> 
> Aceriee is the mastermind of the art you see throughout the fic. I have said an embaressing amount of high-pitched happy noises whenever she have updated me with her art.  
> Go check her masterpost out [on Ao3 here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061548)  
> or [on TUMBLR here](https://missaceriee.tumblr.com/tagged/tf17ina)  
> and send her all the love! 
> 
> A special thanks to [starespressos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/starespressos/pseuds/starespressos)  
> who have been betaing at the eleventh hour and made sure this fic actually turned out both readable and enjoyable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the tags if you are concerned about anything and please do write if you feel I've missed something that I should have tagged.  
> Be warned that I'm not a nice author. I like to put my characters through a lot of shit. 
> 
> I will also add (if the summary didn't give it away) that this is a drug-induced-soulmate-bond Harry Potter AU. So if that triggers something, don't read. 
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy my contribution to the DeanCasTropeFest 2017. It has been a joy writing, a joy seeing the art made for the fic and a pleasure talking to a lot of awesome authors and artists in the chat. For anyone wondering if they should participate next year, I can only say HELL YES.
> 
> The last chapter is basically an appendix in case your HP terms is just a bit outdated. Most is explained throughout the fic. Let me know if there is a term I should have added in the appendix and I will do.

[ ](https://image.ibb.co/csXtba/Poster_small.jpg)


	2. Chapter 2

“Ludwig!” Castiel held out his arm, again, trying to get his stubborn owl to listen. It didn’t appear as if the owl had any intentions whatsoever to come down; but he needed that damned bird to do so anyway. The owl continued to ignore him with all the dignity that only its kind could possibly manifest.

“Ludwig!” he called again. No anger was left in his voice, just sheer desperation. He was wearing the last set of robes, dammit. Yet another Winchester-prank had resulted in something (that something being Castiel’s clothing) ruined. This time it had been lit on fire by Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes and he’d barely managed to aguamenti the fire before it had burnt him. People had found it hilarious, had laughed even, when Castiel stood there. His clothing soaked and tears stung in his eyes because he damned well knew that only one set of robes were left in his trunk, that it would take days at best for him to get more. All he could do was attempt to laugh with them, making fun of himself, knowing damned well that he had not fooled a soul with his all too bright laugh. Castiel hadn’t been the only one hurt; two Slytherins had lost their eyebrows and one of the Hufflepuffs still blinked confused, blinded by the sudden light of the Wheezes going off. She hadn’t been able to see properly for a few hours afterwards. There’d been no punishments handed out for that incident either – Castiel didn’t know why that still surprised him.

A big part of him had not wanted to send the letter to his mother, explaining how he had ended up with yet another set of destroyed robes. It seemed that she had trouble understanding how he kept getting himself into clothes-destroying incidents when Gabriel had managed so well. Damned Gabriel who made it seem so easy, who made friends and fit in so well in Slytherin. Even people from other houses had liked him back in his time at Hogwarts.

Ludwig seemed to pick up on his mood. Castiel could have sworn that the owl sighed loudly before lifting his wings and elegantly landing on his outstretched arm.

“Thank you,” he mumbled softly, taking time to pet the barn owl before fastening the message. “Home, Ludwig.”

The owl blinked at him before taking off, leaving him alone in the owlery.

For a few moments, he allowed himself to just stand there and watch as the owl turned into a small spot on the horizon. He did not want to leave the safe space of the owlery. Who knew when the next prank would fall? When would he be humiliated and ridiculed the next time? If the Winchester’s pranks had been his only problem in school, dealing with it would have been a lot easier.

Someone pushed the door to the owlery open, forcing Castiel out of his head. For a moment Dean stood there, baffled, no hint of his usual cocky smile. For a moment, he looked like someone who could be friendly. Then his lips split in a:

“What’s up, Novak?” along with the quirky, confident smile he so often used.

“Winchester,” he spat out, trying to put in as much hate as he felt in that moment. Castiel quickly moved to get out of the owlery before Dean could manage to hex him. With hurried steps, he left Dean behind him. No-one was waiting on the other side of the door, so it hadn’t been a trap. Dean seemed to think it was beneath him to spell somebody with their back turned, or maybe he had just gotten busy.

As soon as the door slammed behind him, Cas let out the breath he had not been aware of holding as he walked as fast as he could towards the Ravenclaw dorm room. He wasn’t scared of Dean, but he had to preserve his last piece of wearable clothing.

 

This thing going on between him and Dean had culminated during their fifth year, where Ravenclaw and Gryffindor had been taught Potions together. Their professor had not been fond of the tricks or smart-ass comments that usually got Dean somewhere, and Castiel had found himself unable to not sigh or roll his eyes when Dean, for 117th time that day, tried to win over their professor with something stupid instead of doing his damned work.

The professor quickly found a habit of asking Dean questions after he had done another trick, surprising the oldest Winchester, leaving him flustered and unable to answer. Cas had mostly  managed to hold back his smile when he, time after time, was able to raise his hand and give the correct answer. 

A few weeks of Potions classes passed like that, and then the first attacks fell. There had been ridicule, nasty comments and jokes before that, but nothing quite as hardcore as what started then. It was clear that the attacks were intended towards Castiel. Some had been almost innocent, could have been fun had they not come from Dean, but others had been borderline evil. Nothing had ever been destroyed back then, except his dignity and he could damn well go to school and do well without that. Or so he had told himself. Castiel had always been the weird wizard out, always a little to a side compared to everyone else. It hadn’t really mattered before, he’d a few friends and he’d managed. But a rather unpleasant side effect of the prank-attacks had been losing his friends entirely. Nobody wanted to be the victims of the Winchesters’s pranks, and being friends with Castiel would ensure that.

Gabriel suggested revenge-pranks, practically begging Cas to let him plan some. Castiel had refused for most of the school year, not wanting to lower himself to the level of the Winchesters. In the end of the fifth year, however, things got so bad he had agreed to let Gabriel revenge-prank them. Nothing but dignity had been destroyed and Cas still treasured the memory of Dean screaming like a girl as the nicely wrapped and owled present turned out to be a bat-bogey-hex. Sam had laughed so hard he fell from the bench by the Gryffindor table, while Castiel tried his best to look innocent. Gabriel had been more than happy to take the blame, yelling out a “SNIFF BATS, DEAN!” while most of the school laughed.

 

The sixth year there had been something close to a ceasefire. Gabriel had still been there, and apparently, neither of the Winchester boys had felt like messing with Cas risking another bat-bogey-hex. The pranks were reduced to the most harmless of their kind.

Castiel had felt safe enough to kiss with Cole under the astronomy tower. Wizards being with wizards was quite a rare thing and frowned upon. He had known for a while, at that point, that witches didn’t do a thing for him. Cole had been curious, wanting to know if he missed out on anything. Castiel had been willing and the soft kisses they had shared in secret had been something he cherished. That was until Cole started pushing for more.

Soon after refusing Cole for the third time, making it very clear that he was not ready to take their relationship further than kisses and occasional groping, the rumor of him being a fairy got out. Gabriel didn’t care about it, though Cas could easily tell that his big brother had been disappointed that Cas had not told him before. When it turned out that it was Cole who started the rumors, he was not really surprised. What was surprising was how Cole managed to do so with nobody suspecting that it was him who Castiel had kissed with.

Castiel saw no use in trying to deny it, knowing his word wouldn’t matter. Not letting the teasing, the laughs or the comments get to him meant that the topic quickly bored the bullies. Or most of them anyway. Only one comment about his sexuality managed to stick; ‘who would even want to kiss with that loser?’ and with that, Dean had effectively ruled out the possibility of more innocent kissing in hidden corners. No one wanted to kiss a loser.

Gabriel had tried hard to make Castiel seem cool that year, knowing damned well that his younger brother would be somewhat defenseless if left to himself after  Gabriel graduated. Castiel wasn’t one to give again with a good prank. He wasn’t even able to retort with a smart-ass comment.

Maybe loser was a good fit for him. No matter how hard Gabriel worked to get him not to be one, it did not seem to make a difference. He was still too odd, still too scowling and glaring or generally socially awkward. Being the only openly gay-wizard did not help either. But still, the pranks were kept low, the Winchesters apparently fearing the outcome when Gabriel stood watch. They should, too.

 

The seventh year had so far turned out to be hell. Most people began to simply ignore him, and that, that he could take. He understood how nobody wanted to be friends with the loser, risk upsetting the Winchesters and getting the pranks down their neck rather than Cas’. It still stung, though, being left alone, never having someone to work with in classes.

He knew he was smart, knew he had something to offer.

It didn’t change the pain whenever he saw his former friends choosing one another, not sparing him as much as a glance.

The only people not ignoring him completely were the Winchesters. Dean seemed to have grown rather fond of pointing out his “fairy-ness” and how that made him less of a wizard. How no-one would employ “someone like him” after graduation. People seemed to agree with Dean on that one, everyone except maybe Sam who generally left, rolled his eyes or looked ready to hit his big brother whenever he got himself into another bigoted speech about the wrongness of wizards liking wizards.

Castiel had been damned unhappy to learn that he had both potions and charms with the Gryffindors in his seventh year. It made it difficult to avoid Dean entirely.

Pranks had gotten worse as well, with Gabriel no longer in school. So far the casualties counted 3 sets of ropes, his backpack, a notebook, several parchments he had to rewrite the night before turning them in for class and two left shoes. And that was only counting the things that had been impossible to save.

 

With a loud sigh, he entered the common room of Ravenclaw. Except for the red-haired Charlie, he was alone. Tired of everything, he threw himself into one of the chairs by the fire, book in hand. His homework was long done, so he had time to read a book for the simple joy of doing it. It was a rare thing; the common room being depopulated to a degree where he felt okay being there.  

“You okay?” a female voice said, interrupting his thoughts.

Cas looked up, bewildered, confused, until his eyes landed on Charlie, and found her staring directly at him. Just like everyone else, she had refrained from talking to him after their return from summer holidays. Except from an occasional ‘hi’ or question about homework, he couldn’t recall that they had ever talked. 

“Uh,” he answered, not knowing what to do with someone talking to him, showing some resemblance to care.

“You okay, Castiel?” she repeated, leaning slightly forward in her chair. Maybe it was because they were alone, that she dared to talk to him. Or maybe it was because she was friends with Sam, that would grant her some immunity. Sam would not let Dean do anything to any of his friends, he supposed.

“I’m fine,” he responded automatically, looked back down at his book, not knowing what to do with her sudden interest in him. 

It occurred to him that it might be one of those situations where she expected him to return the question. ‘Try and be less odd,’ Gabriel had told him, ‘try to give a fuck about social rules.’

“How about you, Charlie, are you okay?” he then asked, figuring that it was the appropriate thing to do. It took him most of the sentence to lift his eyes from the book, to look at her. He saw no malice, no disgust in her eyes. 

“Yup, thank you for asking.” Charlie smiled towards him, then returned to her own book, looking pleased with herself.

What was that about?

 

It turned out not to be the last time Charlie spoke with him. Most often she talked when they found themselves alone, but she also had the nerve to ask him for help with her homework despite others being in the room.

She never became a victim of the pranks, even though Castiel was pretty sure that everyone knew about her being friendly towards him. At that point the talk would have reached Dean’s ears, but it was likely that he didn’t care. Pranks had been directed towards other students and the teachers too, but not as bad as towards Castiel.

It wasn’t as if they became friends, per se, but having somebody be friendly to him did wonders. By no means did he count on her doing anything public for the Winchesters to see, but it was something. To him it counted, even if it was just someone who wanted help with Potions.

 

Only a few days passed before Ludwig and Cricket, their family owl, returned to him with a big package of new clothes. Cas brought everything to his dorm room before opening the package, wanting to be in private. His mother warned him against getting into more trouble (well, he tried, but trouble seemed to seek him out and avoiding school altogether was not exactly an option). Along with the new robes, she had sent him sweets. Gabriel had sent him a simple leather-cord bracelet which fit him perfectly. It resonated with him in a way he couldn’t explain. Magic, possibly, but not a kind he could easily identify. Oh, and sweets from Gabriel too, along with a letter reminding him to stay cool, hold his head high and that he could just write if he needed some awesome pranks. It did put a smile on his face, even if he did not intend to fight fire with fire.

 

Castiel sometimes found himself wanting study-buddies, even though he did perfectly well in all his classes. Back in the fourth year, he had found a small group of people he had worked somewhat well with. Not having that had taken its toll on his desire to work, sometimes.

Three weeks had passed since Charlie had asked him how he was. A little less since she had asked him for help the first time. She had continued to ask for help, he had continued to provide exactly that. 

“Charlie, I don’t get why you keep asking me for help with potions? Your essay is on point,” he remarked, after turning the parchment towards her. Her neat handwriting had filled out the page. “There is nothing I could teach you that you wouldn’t be able to learn for yourself or don’t already know,” he added. If not knowing better he would have thought she sought his company rather than his abilities, but he knew that it was highly unlikely. No one sought his company.

“I like to be certain,” Charlie said with a shrug. “And you are the top of the class. If anyone should be able to catch my mistakes, it would be you.”

Castiel nodded seriously, then send her a short smile. It was the truth, still, he felt weirdly arrogant admitting that to someone else. While all his O.W.L.s had been outstanding, he was not as brilliant in Charms or Configurations, not the way he was in Potions. Hard work was required if he wanted an Outstanding in those classes.

“Would you mind looking at my parchment?” Cas asked, slowly, like he could withdraw the words as he spoke them if she seemed opposed to the idea.

Charlie’s smile brightened as she nodded. It was the first time he had ever asked her to return the favor. 

 

The last of September passed way too quickly with him suddenly having someone akin to a friend. He had never known the pleasures that a friendship with someone as bright as himself would lead to, the deep discussions, the passionate talks.

While he wasn’t sure Charlie thought of it as friendship, he sure did. So close a friendship, he even told her about all the shit with Cole. It was not something he had discussed with anyone but Gabriel beforehand, but she was not repelled by his sexuality like so many others seemed to be.

“I still don’t get why so many people seem to find it unnatural or disgusting,” Castiel sighed, “it is not exactly like I chose to be this way.” Like he had not chosen to be the strange kid to be picked on either. He didn’t say that, but Charlie knew what he meant already.

“Me neither.” She shrugged, sighing softly.

For a moment, he was quiet until he realized that she had not agreed to not understanding others’ reaction, but to not choose to be so themselves.

“Oh,” he replied, not sure what the appropriate response to that was.

“Yeah, oh,” she agreed.

But no matter her sexuality, everyone liked Charlie. It wasn’t like her coming out of the closet would change that, her warm nature and appropriate jokes made it easy for everyone to like her.


	3. Chapter 3

“You want some chocolate, Cas?” Charlie pushed the tray towards him, One of her signature smiles was playing around her lips, making her eyes sparkle. “I really think you should try one of the dragon-shaped ones.”

“Oh,” he blinked towards her, smiled, and gently took the last dragon-shaped chocolate in the box. Castiel still had a tough time believing that Charlie actually liked him enough to share chocolates with him.

“My mom always owls me chocolates for Halloween,” told Charlie, while she grabbed a bunny-shaped one, digging in with pleasure, “and always more than I can eat before they go bad.”

“I see,” Castiel answered, leaning back into the chair, enjoying the chocolate. The flavors were well combined, it was a pleasure to eat.

“You go ahead and pick another one,” Charlie added, “Just let me have the bunnies, they are my favorite ones.” 

“Okay,” he agreed, picking up another piece while avoiding the bunnies. It felt nice, sharing chocolate like that. Except for his family, he hadn’t really had anyone to share chocolate with. The warmth from the fireplace spread through his skin along with the comfortable feeling the chocolates gave him. He felt weirdly lightheaded. Good. Relaxed. Well, chocolate was used after encounters with dementors, right?

“I know this is an odd question… But why are you and Dean in a feud?” Charlie interrupted his thoughts. It was indeed an odd question.

Cas frowned. “I am not entirely sure, to be honest. It has just always been like that,” he answered, ignoring how the warmth spread down his gut when she mentioned Dean. He pushed off the sensation, telling himself firmly that it was the chocolates. And Charlie caring about a problem of his. The thought of Dean would never cause anything resembling a warm, gushing feeling in his gut.  
“He is just not my cup of tea,” he added when she kept looking weird at him, “I don’t know why he keeps being in my hair.”

“Ever considered that he likes you and tries to get you attention?” Charlie winked at him, her smile wide and teasing.

Castiel laughed at the absurdness of the thought, laughed at the fact that she had even suggested it. Laughed so hard that he could not feel the sting in his chest, very well knowing that she was not right. Dean just liked having someone to play his pranks on. And Sam? Well, Sam simply followed his big brother.

“Come on Cas, it is a possibility!” Charlie leaned forward to poke him in the chest.

“Yeah, just as likely as headmaster allowing dragons rather than broomsticks for Quidditch practice!” he retorted, sinking back into his chair with another dragon-shaped piece of chocolate in his hand.

“Oh god, that could be so epic!” exclaimed Charlie, a wide grin on her face.

Castiel shook his head slowly, thinking about what she had said.Charlie kept babbling about how they would have to change the size of the field and the rules to accommodate riding dragons rather than brooms, and he nodded and made agreeing sounds whenever she looked at him for confirmation.

Could Dean really be… Could that be a reasonable explanation as to why he kept bullying? Why did he keep going after Castiel, rather than any of the other nerds walking the school premises? It was not exactly like Castiel was the only weird person to bully. His thoughts started to wander to all the episodes there had been between Dean and him. There were enough to choose from, some less pleasant than others.

They had been off to a bad start in the train towards Hogwarts, Dean being pureblood and Cas being the weird muggle-born who had been unable to answer anything he had been asked by the arrogant kid in front of him. It had not helped that Cas was visibly older than Dean, an inch or two taller as well. It just pointed out that he, as the oldest one, should know the most. At the end of the conversation, he had settled for scowling as Dean kept talking about how he had ridden a broomstick from an early age, how he had always known that he was a wizard like his parents. When he had proceeded to ask Cas how he had come to learn about his abilities, Dean had not waited for an answer; he had assumed that Castiel had never done anything magical up until the letter had arrived per owl. Not the truth, but instead of correcting him, Castiel had scowled harder at the beautiful boy with the green eyes and freckles who sat there, grinning and assuming so much about someone he had barely met.  
That conversation never got anything but awkward between them and Dean never tried to initiate another conversation. Castiel could still remember the relief he’d felt when Dean had joined the Gryffindor table while he had been comfortably seated at the Ravenclaw one. At first, the house-divided tables had seemed weird, why not age division rather than houses? But with time it made sense. Christmas was the only time of year where they were seated together, students from different houses and teachers. But given how few people usually stayed for Christmas, nothing but joining the tables made sense.

 

Charlie tried to get him out of his thoughts, engage in the conversation, asking him what breed of dragons he thought would be the best for Quidditch. Castiel went as far as agreeing that the Hungarian Horntail would be a horrible choice, but his mind kept wandering back to what she had said.

Castiel stopped her in the middle of a sentence with a; “you think he likes me?”

“What other explanation would there be for his behavior?” she raised a brow in a way Castiel had quickly come to associate with her.

“Don’t know,” Castiel admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers, “do you know where he is?”

“Why?”

“I think I am going to ask him. Why he keeps bugging me, that is. I am not interested in knowing about his feelings whatever they may be,” Castiel clarified, emphasizing the last part while he grabbed the last dragon-shaped chocolate. He was already on her feet before she answered.

“I heard him talk with Sam about practicing transfiguration. He should be in the classroom,” she told him. “Good luck!”

 

Castiel walked fast, not wanting to wait unnecessarily to see Dean. He wanted answers to questions he should have asked years ago. Dammit, Dean could not treat him the way he did. Castiel’s mind felt foggy as he hurried through the corridors, his new robes flowing behind him as he moved. It was late, he noticed distantly, no other students in the halls. Maybe it was after curfew. It wasn’t like he cared.

Without knocking he pushed open the door to the Transfiguration classroom, staring wildly around.

Dean turned around on his heel, green eyes wide as if he was shocked to see Castiel. His dark-blond hair seemed almost red like Charlie’s in the limited light from the candles. Castiel shut the door, inching closer. Trying to talk, to ask Dean what was going on came out as small, weird, growling noises. No matter how hard he tried, the words wouldn’t come.

What he had wanted to ask suddenly seemed irrelevant. Dean stood there, so perfectly well build, biting his full lips nervously. Dean’s eyes darted up and down Castiel’s body, checking him out the same way Cas had looked at him.

“Cas,” Dean let out, breathlessly. Dean kept moving closer, and Castiel found himself not minding in the least.

They kept eye contact while moving closer like gravity would pull on the falling object. Had Dean always had so ridiculous green eyes? How had he never noticed the speck of freckles over the bridge of Dean’s nose? It looked ridiculously cute.

Dean, in turn, seemed to stare at him with the same intensity; like Cas were a buffet he was just waiting to swallow down. It made him hot all over, clothing itching.

“Dean,” was all he managed, before his collar was grabbed and he was dragged closer. Both were breathing hard when their lips finally met in a filthy and hungry kiss.

The fog cleared enough for Cas to wonder what the hell they were doing, but then Dean slowly moved the tip of his tongue over Cas’ lips, asking for permission, which he granted with gusto. If he had known before kissing Dean would feel so damned good he would have done it a long time before. Something felt as if it clicked, something so right that he had no words to describe it.

They parted for a moment, breathing hard, staring at one another. Dean’s pupils were blown in what Castiel now knew was lust. Cas had a feeling that it was a far cry from the first time Dean had looked at him like that. 

“Dean,” he whispered against his soft lips, kissing him again.

“Yes. Yes please,” Dean agreed, even though there had not been a question, Cas understood. Moving a hand around Dean’s waist, he got Dean as close as physically possible. It was not a surprise when Dean’s erection pressed against his thigh.

“I have thought about you all day,” he confessed, watching Dean closely for his reaction.

“Yeah? That explains why you have kept wandering in my mind as well,” Dean smirked. Then he dropped talking altogether in favor of kissing Cas like he tried to express his feelings through the kisses. Desire, lust, want and something too warm and fuzzy to name flowed to Cas as they kept kissing.

Cas was entirely on board with more kisses, parting his lips, allowing Dean full access to his mouth.

When Dean’s lips moved down his neck he bared it without hesitation, hissing sounds escaping his lips when he bit back moans. Dean seemed satisfied with his reaction; sucked hard against the sensitive skin or let his teeth scrape softly over it. Castiel was fast to push Dean against the blackboard, sucking marks on him as well, bathing in the sound the other guy made.

“Dammit, Dean. What are you doing to me?” Cas asked at some point, but instead of waiting for an answer he kissed him deeply.

“Nothing, angel. Nothing,” Dean told him, pushing him against a desk. Cas grabbed the edge to keep his balance, kissing Dean softly on the lips.

“I’m no angel,” he tried to protest. Dean shut him up with another kiss.

They kissed for quite a while, the fog coming and going, allowing him some thoughts of his own. Partly he wondered why he was making out with Dean, groping against him without shame, part of him wondered why it had taken him so long to do. He had foggy memories of talking with Charlie, of walking out to find Dean, of Dean not practicing, rather waiting. All smushed up with the overpowering want and need to be with Dean.

Something snapped in Castiel’s mind and he pushed away from the green-eyed wizard, staring at him with fear.

“I have been drugged!” he wheezed out, his voice sounding far away and strained in his own mind.

“HOW DID YOU TRICK HER INTO GIVING ME LOVE POTION?” he was aware of how screechy his voice was sounding, how begging. He knew that the chocolates had been the source, there was no doubt about that. The foggy symptoms had started so soon after he had swallowed the first one. Dean had to be behind it somehow. What if had been Charlie’s doing all along? She was his friend, wasn’t she? Or had she just befriended him for the sake of playing such a cruel joke?

“Come on Cas. You haven’t been drugged. We like each other!” Dean hummed, looking at Cas confused. Dean leaned forward as to get another kiss, and it took all he had to push Dean away for a second time, holding him out with stretched arms.

“You don’t feel the fogginess around your brain? Like you have been sleeping?” Cas insisted, voice desperate.

Dean frowned at him, opened his mouth as if to say something. Then he blinked for a few times, the foggy lust blown look replaced with something almost aware.

“Fuck. I am going to kill my brother,” Dean growled, staring at Cas in horror like he could not believe that he had just been snogging with the biggest loser at school. Cas could not blame him for looking like that. Dean looked away for a moment as if thinking. When he looked at Castiel again, his eyes seemed to say sorry even though his lips did not move that way. Maybe the oldest Winchester had some conscience.

Dean turned on his heel to walk out the classroom, and Castiel was left there, without an answer the question he had wanted to ask.

 

It took him a few moments to gather enough breath to walk out of the classroom as well. He was still achingly hard in his pants, even with the effect of the love potion mostly gone. It had probably been a diluted one, or the effect would have been a lot more long-lasting. Up to 24 hours, he knew. If Sam and Charlie had been the masterminds behind producing it he was not surprised that it had been unnecessary for Dean to hand him the chocolates, or he to him. He was sure they would have found a way to work around that. Hopefully it the way did not involve clipped toenails or something equally disgusting.

Castiel could still feel the possession curl low in his stomach, the want to grab Dean and haul him close again, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to do so. Dean wasn’t his to take and he wasn’t truly interested. It was just the remnant of the love potion telling him that he was.  
After all Dean’s comments about Cas being less of a wizard because of his sexuality, it was impossible that Dean had wanted to make out with him in the classroom just for the sake of playing another evil prank. Hell, anyone could have walked in on them.

 

Instead of going to the Ravenclaw common room, Castiel ventured outside. Darkness did not scare him, nor did the thought of being caught. After all, his record was spotless and the teachers liked him. A single stroll after curfew would not do anything. If he were truly unlucky he would get a detention. The thought almost made him laugh.

The chill air did little to clear his head, thoughts still whirling as he walked. There was no question that Charlie had fed him the love-potion, but why? He had thought they were friends. Had it been her intention all along with befriending him? To humiliate him like that? In that case, why hadn’t she made a stronger, more long-lasting potion, having him follow Dean like a puppy for days? If she truly had been the mastermind behind the potion like he suspected, that would have been child’s play.

Castiel would have to talk to her about it. There was the slim possibility that she had nothing to do with it, that it was all a coincidence. Somehow he didn’t believe that, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

The cool night did nothing to remove the lingering feeling of Dean’s lips against his, how right it had felt even through the fog. The air couldn’t remove how badly he wished for it to happen again. Maybe the effect of the potion still hadn’t worn off entirely.

 

Castiel did not stumble across others on his tour around the premises of Hogwarts. The memorial for the fallen of the Wizarding Wars stood tall in white granite, the names of those who had given their life easy to read in the weak light of the moon.

He took a moment to stand there, thinking about them. He hadn’t known any, would never get the chance to. Still, they had given their lives to fight for what they believed in. Being muggle-born, he hadn’t been involved in the war but he had read the books written about it. It had been a horrible, horrible thing. Once he understood what the names had given up for someone like him, he had found himself at the memorial more often. If not for those on the list, he wouldn’t have been allowed into Hogwarts. From what he could read, violent and ugly things had happened to muggle-born children during the war. 

Sure, his education at Hogwarts had started at 13 rather than 11 as usual, but the war had led to the school closing. It had stayed closed until they had finished renovating the place and again felt sure that it was safe to let the muggle-born receive their letters. There were most likely still followers of Voldemort’s out there. People who agreed that he was not entitled to a magic education. 

Cas sighed, lifting his hand off the memorial stone. People younger than he was had died in that war.

 

Walking back felt like it took eternities. Castiel made a quick detour to the bathroom, neck covered in red and purple bruises. His lips were still swollen and pink. Their kisses hadn’t exactly been gentle.

The common room was empty, and he sighed with relief. He was not in the mood to explain why he had been walking around at night (in the unlikely case anyone should care) to anyone nor confront Charlie. His robes pulled up high, and they covered the marks nicely.

Cas hurried to bed.


	4. Chapter 4

After Charlie had admitted to pranking him with the love potion Castiel worked alone once again. He was not sure if it was something he could forgive. She had no idea what she had done, no idea of the deep trust she had betrayed with it, and he could not bear to tell her. It would give her more weapons to aim in his direction if she once again turned out to be untrustworthy.

Part of him had wanted to forgive her. But when it came to it, he had no idea how.  
The feeling of loneliness grew stronger with her absence. She had given him the taste of something he had not had before, something he deeply craved. Looking towards the Gryffindor table he often found her sitting with Sam, talking to him with ease. It never failed to make him hurt when his eyes locked on her, the youngest Winchester and Dean laughing together, knowing damned well that a few weeks ago, he had at the least had her.  
Well, at least Dean seems to have lost interest in me, he thought to himself to seek comfort. It didn’t really do much. Maybe I can have my ropes surviving the rest of the year.

 

Seeing Dean work with Charlie in their potions classes made his insides twist. Dean and Charlie had worked together all year in Potion classes, but now that Charlie was no longer his during afternoon study session... Castiel could just watch when Dean’s green eyes lit with happiness whenever Charlie said something funny, how she threw her head back in a belly-deep laugh. It made him feel as if he was missing out on something.  
Cas wanted what they had so badly it affected his work. For the first time, his professors weren’t satisfied with what he handed in.

Castiel could feel Charlie’s worried eyes on him when their potion professor asked him to stay after class.

“Castiel, what happened? Your parchments used to be excellent, now I can barely give you an acceptable. Your work in class is sloppy too. I am starting to worry,” the professor sighed, giving him a serious look.

“I don’t know, sir,” answered Castiel with a shrug, keeping his gaze on the floor.

“I have seen you do better than this for years,” his potion professor sighed deeply, “I know you can do better. I would hate to see your N.E.W.T. grades go down because of whatever this is.”

“Me too, professor, me too,” he agreed with a sigh. But it was not like he could tell what was going on, not without getting Sam and Charlie in serious trouble. While knowing intellectually he should tell his professor and not care about the consequences for Sam or Charlie, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Part of him still hoped that Charlie would apologize and that they somehow could work things out. Sam he cared less about, but if told about Sam, it risked compromising Charlie as well. 

Even if they had not brewed the potion themselves, there was still the matter of giving it. Drugging others was strictly forbidden at the school and for good reason. And he couldn’t tell the professor that a certain green-eyed wizard kept distracting him from his schoolwork. That he almost missed the bullying. Things had turned so odd, now that he was left in peace.

“Go get some lunch,” a friendly smile sent his way as if his professor sensed his state of mind. He returned the smile warily before disappearing out of the door.

 

Days passed. Instead of thinking, he threw himself back into school, working harder than he’d ever done before. It wasn’t easy to get back to the standard he’d held before, and he knew that he had to deliver a little extra to make up for his previous bad parchments. Interacting with other students lessened even more, to the extent where he practically did not talk with anyone. It wasn’t like anyone cared either way. It was easier like that, he told himself. Castiel was too exhausted anyway. In the evening, he would nod off in the chairs, making sure he was too tired for any dreams to really form while he slept.

Castiel stopped going to the great hall to do his homework in the afternoons as well. Watching Charlie have fun with the Winchesters kept being too agonizing, reminding him of the friendship he had. Maybe it was how things were meant to be, he figured. Maybe he was just not cut out for having friends. Too weird, too scowling, too focused. Maybe he was just too much.

 

Castiel had been looking forward learning the Patronus charm since it was announced at his third year that all the seventh-year student were to be taught it in class. In secret he had practiced already, wanting to be sure that he would not be utterly humiliated by being unable to produce anything. It was not like he was able to produce a corporeal Patronus, not yet anyway. With determined work, he was pretty sure that he would be.

It was the last week before Christmas their charms professor Flitwick announced that now was the time to practice.

“Since all of you are above 17, you can practice during your holiday,” their teacher sounded like they should look forward to demanding work during Christmas.

The Patronus charm was not exactly known for being easy to perform. If anything, it had been very discussed whether the students were to learn it if the magic was too advanced. In the end, the benefits of learning the Patronus won out over the possibility of students not learning it, and it became mandatory for every student in the seventh year to learn how to cast the charm.

“The charm is ‘Expecto Patronum’,” Flitwick stated, making the entire class repeat it until there was no hesitation in any of the voices.

“And to conquer your Patronus, you must think about a very specific, very happy memory. It was to be strong enough to act as a shield around your mind, strong enough to support this very advanced magic. I do not expect all of you to succeed today – but you will, with time. If you want to earn top grades, you will need to be able to produce a Patronus. The shield state is more than sufficient, but the corporeal will earn the witch or wizard bonus-points… So, I expect all of you to work hard,” he continued, the movement of his arms underlining his words. It was clear that the professor did not agree with making it mandatory, but he was bound by the rules nevertheless.

 

During that first lesson, Castiel was the only one able to produce something looking like a silver shield. Charlie had managed some weak fizzle; no other student had managed anything remotely close to what was needed against a dementor. Professor Flitwick sent them off to the next class with encouraging words, promising them that they would soon be able to see their Patronus’.

It had been very satisfying seeing Dean struggle with the charm, unable to produce a thing. Castiel had felt Dean’s glare when their teacher had asked him to demonstrate how far he had come in front of the class. Dean had looked like he wanted to kill someone when Castiel cast the charm, showing off the shield-state.

It also became clear that there was no way he could skip practice during the holidays unless he felt like humiliating himself.

Cas had already decided to stay at Hogwarts during Christmas, focusing entirely on his school work. If he had needed an excuse before, he had it now. His mother would probably be disappointed in that decision, but he was not up for facing his family just yet. They, especially Gabriel, would be furious if he told them about the love potion prank, and he was not sure he could talk about his school work without mentioning Charlie at some point. If he mentioned Charlie, well, the prank would inevitably come up at some point.Even if he could hide it from his mother, there was still Gabriel whom he’d always found it difficult to hide things from. His big brother had always been able to see straight through him.

 

Castiel had not known that he could possibly miss Charlie more than he did already. But being left at the school with so very few students really made it obvious that he was the odd one out. Most of the other students had left for home to celebrate the holiday, and only a handful from each house was left behind at school. Not that he really minded, that meant that he often had the common room to himself and practically slept alone in the dorm.

The tables were joined in the spirit of the holiday. It was somewhat cozy, he thought. That was until he learned how sitting at the table with Dean made things difficult.

No matter how much he tried to tell himself that nothing had changed after their drug-induced kissing, he knew something had. The strange possessiveness had not left, no matter how much he wanted it to, and seeing Dean with his arm swung casually around a girl made his blood boil. Castiel had no idea what to make of that.

It seemed that they kept stumbling into one another, him and Dean, no matter how hard he tried to avoid the oldest Winchester. Sometimes they weren’t as hostile as they’d used to be.

No more pranks had been directed at him either. It made his head hurt trying to figure out what the intention behind that was, and his best guess ended up being that Charlie and Sam held Dean back as a way of apologizing for their out of line love potion prank. People’s intentions had never really been Castiel’s cup of tea.

As much as possible he avoided the great hall, instead using the empty classrooms or the common room to practice whenever he could. His excessive use of magic often left him exhausted at the end of the night, but seeing the baby steps towards a corporeal Patronus was worth every moment. The days where he did not feel like practicing, he studied in the library. At first, his studies had been limited to the Patronus charm only, but books in that department were quickly read. The librarian suggested several different school-related books, and he found himself fascinated by a thick, leather-bound potions book which explained the theories and experiments leading towards a successful potion rather than the list of ingredients and how-to. It was not dangerous or rare by any means and the librarian, Madam Pince, reluctantly allowed him to bring it to bed and read throughout the night whenever he felt like it.

 

It was Christmas day when he finally succeeded in casting the corporeal Patronus. Castiel was so caught up in admiring the beautiful horse that he didn’t even notice when the door to the charm classroom opened. His Patronus did, however - ears and face turned towards the opening where Dean stood, mouth open in awe.

“I had no idea you could do that,” Dean admitted, the silver-shining horse slowly walking away from Cas and towards him.

“I couldn’t,” he sighed, “I have been practicing.”

“Yeah. I can tell.” Something in the other boy’s voice was soft.

[ ](https://image.ibb.co/k2xESQ/Patronus_Charm_small.jpg)

He watched as Dean let the silver horse nuzzle against his hand before it turned around, watching Castiel as if to tell him something. It stood like that for a moment until it disappeared slowly, turning into the fog at first until it just wasn’t there. Castiel almost wanted to cast the charm again to watch the beautiful silver creature. Seeing how Dean looked at him made him feel a need for some sort of protection or preferably, an invisibility cloak so he could disappear unnoticed.

“I…” Dean started, hauling Castiel out of his thoughts. “I… Would you mind teaching me how to? I don’t want to be the only one after the holidays who still cannot even produce a silver-mist.” Dean’s freckles and green eyes were emphasized by the pink color of his cheeks. It looked as if the question shocked him as much as it had shocked Cas. Like he had thought something else would come over his lips.

When Castiel didn’t answer right away, Dean deflated slightly. Disappointment made the hesitant smile fall, the green eyes seem duller when he looked away.

“Forget I asked. It was a stupid question.”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. Maybe too fast, because the way Dean looked at him made something in him ache with the want to do better, with the desire to make him look happy again. But the question had stirred a deep anger in him.

“Had you really expected something different, Winchester?” he spat out the name, “you have never asked for my help, nor have you done anything to deserve it. You are the one who has pointed out how me liking other wizards rather than witches makes me less of one. You can’t just storm in here and ask me things like that. You can’t seriously expect me to actually want to do anything that means having to spend time with you.” The words stumbled over one another, his anger making him talk faster than he usually did. Dean’s face turned from confused to a burning anger like the one coursing through his own veins.

“You are an arrogant, annoying assbutt!” Castiel exclaimed as to prove a point.

“Like you are any better, Novak. Always high and mighty in class, always with that self-important smile or scowl on your face like you are so much better than the rest of us. Smirking whenever I am answering something wrong! Like you have never failed like you do not need to practice and work your ass off like the rest of us!”

“You wouldn’t need half the amount of practice if you stopped playing stupid pranks in class and actually listened!” Cas was not sure if that counted as a good retort. Probably not. He was breathing hard, magic thrumming underneath his skin with the anger.“Why is it that you just can’t leave me be, Dean? I am tired of you. I am tired of the fucking pranks you and your brother seem to enjoy throwing my way. I am tired of always fearing for my clothing or my dignity. So, do please tell me again, why would I help you when everything you have done has been to try and humiliate me and make my life a living hell?” his voice was too high, too close to breaking.

Deans face was an open book. He looked confused, shocked, hurt. But the anger was no longer to be seen.

“I never meant to do that,” Dean’s voice was little and fragile with something Cas did not understand.

“Don’t even try Dean. It is too little, it is too late and it is not like you can say anything that will change this. I am out of here in less than a year. Then it won’t matter. Then none of this matters,” he growled, moving his hand in wide motion. His grades would be the only important thing leaving with him, and he had worked hard enough to expect outstanding in most of his classes.

Dean looked at him as if he had been hit. Cas didn’t feel like figuring out why the Gryffindor looked so wrecked by those words, and why did Dean looking like at him like that hurt. Castiel walked out of the classroom, hurrying up the corridor and the stairs towards the Ravenclaw common room.

No one else was there, he noted with some relief as he slumped down into one of the armchairs. He was truly not in the mood for talking or having weird gazes directed his way either. Someone had left a box of chocolates, but the sight made him nauseous. He really did not feel like chocolates, hadn’t since the night of Halloween.

Instead, he got up and went to bed, tossing and turning, unable to find any kind of rest.

 

After Dean’s failed attempt at getting Castiel to teach him, he saw a lot more of Dean. The Gryffindor seemed to use every excuse available to be somewhere nearby. It made him confused and uncomfortable. It continued steadily during the holidays, and into the new year with the students coming back from their celebrations at home.  
When Cas, for about the millionth time, caught Dean in the library that he had seemed to grow suspiciously fond of, he got up and sat down in front of the green-eyed boy.

“What do you want?” he asked, low, to not annoy the other students or Madam Pince.

“Nothing. I am trying to study the Patronus charm,” Dean claimed.

“Why do you keep following me?”

Dean moved uncomfortably. “Am not.”

“Yes, you are. I want to know why.”

“I… I figured that maybe I would see you do it again, you know?” Dean mumbled, eyes directed towards the floor. 

“Maybe you should have practiced, then,” his voice was dismissive and annoyed even in his own ears. He almost hoped Dean wouldn’t notice, and that he wouldn’t get that hurt look on his face again.

“I have. I have been practicing my ass off. All the times where you thought I was following you? Where we stumbled across one another? I was looking for somewhere to practice or had been practicing,” Dean leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. His green eyes were hard.

“And you still haven’t managed the mist stage?”

“No,” Dean growled, “how many times do I have to say it? There is no need for you to tell me that I am a lost cause as well.” His tone was bitter enough to make Castiel flinch. He had never called Dean a lost cause. Maybe he had thought so, at times, but he had never said it.

“I don’t think you are a lost cause,” he sighed, leaning back into the chair while rolling his eyes with feeling. “But why don’t you get Charlie to help you out? Or your brother for that matter? He seems to be smart enough to master the Patronus charm even though he is young.”

“Never mind!” Dean sounded even angrier. He got up quickly, gathered his things while making a point with not looking at Castiel before walking out of the library, his entire body tense.

Cas stared after him. He didn’t understand why Dean wouldn’t just ask his friends or brother to teach him. Why that suggestion made him angry was way beyond Castiel. But understanding Dean Winchester was not exactly high on his to-do list either way.


	5. Chapter 5

After the holidays, it was as if his professors had been possessed by evil spirits. Homework piled up, and he fought hard to keep up. Others who took fever N.E.W.T. classes than he did weren’t that much better off. Often the Ravenclaw common room was filled to the brim with desperate seventh-year students who worked until they nodded off in their chairs. More than one student was admitted to the hospital wing with potion poisoning; they tried to scramble up something to keep them awake or they had overdosed on the legal and expensive stuff. Caffeine poisoning was also a growing problem among the students.

Knowing how much time other spent in the hospital-wing made him happy he had refused the few times he had been offered something and stuck with his hot tea. It had less of an effect, he knew that, but he was not exactly having the time to stay in the hospital wing for complete relaxation while his body detoxified itself.

No one got badly hurt.

Castiel did, however, grow quite fond of a simple spell that almost made a bubble around him and thereby blocking the sounds of the other students out. It was a nifty thing he had found written in the margin of an old potion book he had borrowed from the library, and knowing what he did about spells he had figured it safe to test on himself. Now he pretty much used it whenever he studied, ensuring peace and quiet for him to focus.

 

First class in charms after the holidays had been interesting. Most of the class (everyone except Dean) had been able to produce some degree of silver mist. It varied from weak mists that would do nothing against a dementor to full-blown shields and weak shapes of what would soon become corporeal Patronus’.

Castiel stood near Dean when professor Flitwick had asked the green-eyed wizard if he had even practiced during the holidays. He could hear the way the other boy’s voice was shaking with the promise that he had been working hard. The tone of their professor’s voice when he asked Dean to focus harder on the memory he had chosen made it clear that he didn’t believe that Dean had practiced at all.

Even without knowing Dean it was clear that he was close to tears, humiliation coloring his cheeks a deep red while the rest of his face was a sickly gray color. His eyes seemed sunken in, but that could have been the light in the classroom.

For the first time, it occurred to Castiel that maybe Dean wasn’t as happy as he led everyone to believe. Part of him started to regret that he had refused to teach Dean when he saw how hard he struggled with the spell, how he poured in an intense amount of magic. No amount of magic would make the spell work if he didn’t use the right kind of memory, though. His face went even paler as Castiel watched him struggle up until the point where Dean just gave up, breathing hard with a supporting hand on the table. He didn’t look like someone who could stand without the support either.

“What are you staring at?” Dean wheezed out, giving Cas a hard glare.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, looking away. Castiel wasn’t worn out yet. He could practice more, get better and more stable in the cast of the charm, but it felt like humiliating Dean further. Showing that he had no trouble doing what Dean so obviously could not. It somehow didn’t seem fair. Castiel could always practice alone.

The bell rang, saving him from Dean’s angry glare. Castiel could feel his eyes on his back as he hurried out the classroom to herbology. He sent a quiet thank to whoever had been behind planning schedules. There were no more classes with Gryffindor that day.

 

When he ate lunch in the great hall that day, Charlie leaned over to talk with him for the first time in ages. Nervous energy made his insides twist together. 

“I saw your Patronus in class,” she smiled at him, brightly. “It was beautiful.”

He shrugged, unable not to smile a little. Charlie had been close to mastering the charm as well, it was merely a question of time and practice before her Patronus would take shape of whatever animal represented her. 

“You weren’t doing too bad yourself,” he ended up answering when she kept looking at him like she expected him to say something more.

“Can we talk later?” she asked, a smile suddenly disappearing from her face. She looked concerned if not a little upset. And dammit, he was not cold enough to refuse that look. At the least, she deserved a chance to explain the stupid prank. Truth to be told, he had waited for her to initiate contact. Giving her a chance to redeem herself.

“Yes,” he agreed, watching with delight as she smiled again, wider and less worried before.“We could meet here before dinner and take a walk on the premises?” he found himself suggesting. No matter how she approached the conversation he knew they would want privacy.

“Sure thing!” Charlie agreed, diving back into her food. They kept talking like they had used to before like nothing had ever happened.

Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes on him the whole time.

 

After Transfiguration, they met in the great hall. Without talking, they walked outside, strolling along the Quidditch pitch.

“You know I am sorry, right?” Charlie suddenly broke the silence.

“Yeah,” he agreed, letting out a breath. That part he had never doubted. But her being sorry didn’t really change much for him.

“I thought we were friends, Charlie,” his voice was softer than he had anticipated.

“We are, I hope.”

“Friends don’t drug friends,” Castiel answered, knowing enough about friendship to be certain of that.

She was quiet for a while.

“I thought it would… that it would make Dean stop being in your hair. That it would make you guys see the obvious. I hadn’t really thought it through.”

“No,” he agreed, letting her words sink in, concern making his forehead wrinkle. “See the obvious?” he repeated, not sure what she meant.

“You two care for one another,” she told him, deadly serious.

The thought was so absurd that he started laughing. He kept laughing until tears were running down his cheeks and he had to lean against the goalpost to keep his balance.

“I have no idea what you have been drinking, Charlie, but do not take care. I think whatever it is, is starting to get to you.”

“Sam agrees,” Charlie said like it meant something. She had crossed her arms.

“Sure he does. But there is something you have gotten all wrong. Dean resents me. Why do you think he has been acting like such an assbutt the past 7 years?”

The redhead shrugged. “Because he is too much of a coward to actually admit to liking you. Just like you won’t admit to liking him.”

“There is nothing to admit,” he retorted, annoyed with her. He had thought she would apologize. Thought she would talk to him about her intentions, about how to repair their friendship. He was rather naïve in that department, apparently.

“He told Sam, you know.”

“He told Sam what?”

“About Christmas day, where you managed the Patronus. How it greeted him, let him touch it. I saw it in the classroom as well, how it wanted to go to him. How you dismissed it as soon as it did. Don’t worry, I doubt anyone else noticed!” she assured him.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Castiel protested halfheartedly. He could feel himself grow pale, knowing that she was right. But it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t.

“You have read too much about Patronus’ to actually believe that,” she told him, then hesitated for a moment. She looked like she was struggling with what to say. “It wasn’t a love potion, Cas.” 

“It was!” his voice was shrieking in his own ears when he protested: “I felt the effect of it, Charlie. I felt foggy, I had no control. I just wanted him. It was a love potion. It was.” 

She almost looked sorry when she looked at him. “It wasn’t. It was merely meant to meant to get the two of you to talk. What happened had nothing to do with the potion.”

Castiel felt as if his legs were affected by the jelly-leg curse. What if she was telling the truth? He had no way to know for sure. Slowly he lowered himself, placing his back against the goal pole. Charlie sat down opposite of him, cross-legged and concerned.

“I am sorry that it turned out like that and that I haven’t got around to tell you before. But it was never meant to make the two of you make out like you did. It was meant to get you to talk, to figure things out. I had not foreseen kissing as an option. If I had I would never have done it. You have to believe that!” her voice was desperate, eyes pleading.

“I thought it was. I thought you and Sam had made a diluted version of the potion…” he admitted, staring into the grass. His one hand slowly picked at the short straws, ripping them in pieces.

“I would lie if I said that we had not considered that,” she admitted with a sigh. “But we agreed on it being… Well, not exactly solving the problem. We are not that cruel, Cas. Honestly, I really thought you would yell at one another in the worst case with this potion.”

“Does Dean know about the true nature of the potion?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I miss being friends with you, Cas. Sam is great, don’t get me wrong, but he is just that much younger than he is not really an equal academic partner the way you are,” she rubbed her forehead for a moment. “I am selfish like that. I let you believe it was a love potion when I saw the marks after you had met. I knew it would be easier for you if you thought it had been drug induced.”

“Oh,” he replied, unable to come up with a better answer than that.

“Yeah. I guess it would have been easier for you not knowing that it wasn’t, but you deserve the truth,” she looked up at the pattern she had traced in the grass with her finger. “You should get to know Dean, too. He is a lot more than he lets people believe.”

“No thank you,” Castiel’s upper lip curled in in disgust. “In case you do not remember he does not want anything to do with me except using me for my magic abilities. Did you know he had the nerve to ask me about the Patronus charm? After all he did? Being open about liking wizards apparently, makes me less of a human in his world.” The last part was added bitterly.

“You would be surprised,” she told him. “He knows that I like witches. I have been completely open about that with him and Sam. He has yet to give me a bigoted comment.”

“Most boys find two girls sexy, Charlie,” he pointed out with a sigh.

“If they can join in or watch, that is!” she grinned towards him as he rolled his eyes. There was some truth to that.

It wasn’t until later that it occurred to him that he never asked what potion he and Dean had ingested that night. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around what other potions would have that effect on him, but no matter how much he thought, nothing came to mind. It was possible Charlie had lied about it, but he couldn’t phantom why she would. 

 

His professors seemed delighted with the effort he had put in his school work. Most of them assured him that he would not have any trouble getting “Exceed expectations” or “outstanding” if he kept up his excellent work.

It was a blessing to know that what had happened with Dean would not affect his school work long term. Castiel could push away the thought of Dean and Charlie’s words by focusing hard on school.

Often, he was so exhausted at the end of the night that he was asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

 

In Potions, it was decided that it was time to learn how to brew the Amortentia potion, better known as a love potion. He had never tried it before, nor had any of his classmates. He had seen the finished brew once; it had been the fourth year, their professor had brewed a lot of different potions which he had asked the students to identify. It had been child’s play, but fun nevertheless. He was unable to recall the smell from back then but looked forward to brewing it.

Paired with Charlie, it would go well, he felt sure of it. It was not without reason that they ranked the top of the class.

It turned out to be a whole lot harder work than he’d anticipated. Their potion did not seem to turn the right color, no matter that they had followed the instructions to perfection.

Their professor told them that almost no-one would get the potion right on the first try, but that they had been close. It was a simple matter of practicing the advanced brewing techniques until they got them right. But if anything, it just confirmed that Charlie had told the truth about the potion not being Amortentia. She couldn’t have brewed it herself, her struggle with the potion real as sweat stuck to her forehead.

With help from their professor and yet another in-depth consultation with the book, they managed to make the potion before the end of the lesson as the only team. Many teams came close, just missing the few final steps for the finished potion.

“And this, class, is how the potion is supposed to look. Try come and smell!” their professor stated, waving Charlie up first.

“Flowers…” she mumbled at first, inhaling deeply again. Louder she announced: “Flowers, pop tarts and the ground after heavy rain.”

Then Castiel was waved up to scent their potion like he hadn’t done it once it was finished.

“Leather, apples and cinnamon,” he said, shrugging. Charlie smiled at him smugly like his words meant something to her.

The rest of the class described the scent differently, but all with pleasant things. Dean was last to go up there. At first, he did not say a thing, not until their teacher shot him a pointed look.

“The freshness of spring, honey, and books,” he admitted, blushing deeply as he walked to the back of the class. Considering that one of the girls had admitted to scent beets Cas had no idea why Dean seemed to blush so hard. What he had described was far from the weirdest thing that day.

Charlie continued to look extremely satisfied with herself.

“So, as you can hear, the smell of the potion is individual to the witch or wizard scenting it. That also means that you cannot use the scent to detect what it is. The way the steam moves and the pearl color of the potion are better detectors. If you are several people and all of you scent different, but pleasant things, you can use that as an indicator as well.

“Be aware that Amortentia is not a love potion as such – the name is rather misleading. It does not make anyone fall in love, rather it makes the consumer obsessed with whoever gave him or her the potion. This has led to both embarrassing and very dangerous situations. As you can imagine, a person obsessed will not back down from any challenge or any obstacle!” their professor told them, then waved them off with a dismissive move of his hand. “You have a few moments before the bell rings. Go out and breathe fresh air, get your heads cleared before your next lesson.”

The classroom filled with the sound of people packing their things and hurrying to enjoy the rare moments meant for relaxation. There weren’t many of those during the seventh year.

Charlie kept having the smug look on her face throughout the day. For the love of his life, Castiel could not figure out why she looked so satisfied. And if he had to be honest, he wasn’t too sure he wanted to know.

 

Dean’s struggles with the Patronus charm continued as January bled into February. They had moved on to other advanced spells which he seemed to master, but each time their professor asked them to perform the Patronus, Dean failed to even get a mist. The shield was necessary for him if he wanted to do better than barely pass the class. Castiel felt sorry for him, seeing how hard he struggled.

Professor Flitwick even offered to teach him privately after school, something that Dean had reluctantly agreed to.

Even with the extra tutoring, his problem remained.

It was not that Castiel was interested in Dean, per se, but it was hard not to notice his struggles when most people in both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had mastered the spell to at least the shield state. Even without using much time looking at Dean, he couldn’t overlook the way Dean’s robes hang looser around his form, eyes looking dead.

There hadn’t even been a harmless, teasing comment for a long time. Honestly, Castiel was starting to worry quite a bit, no matter how much he hated to admit so.

 

“Do you think Dean is ill?” he asked Charlie one day, staring out the window in the classroom they had decided to study in for the time being.

Charlie looked at him. “He isn’t. But… No, I can’t tell you that. If you want to know, you should talk with him yourself.”

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me, Charlie. I refused to teach him the Patronus charm,” he shrugged, mouth grim. “Besides, we have never been on friendly terms, wouldn’t it be plain weird if I started to ask about his well-being?”

“No, I think he would appreciate it,” she assured him. “Besides, he needs a study-buddy, badly. Having Sam does not really count, and I... well.” She gestured to the papers in front of them. It was clear that she had chosen to study with him rather than Dean, possibly to make up for the lost time.

Hesitantly, Castiel said; “you can… You could invite him tomorrow. To our study session.” He frowned at himself, wondering if it truly was a smart idea. But then again, just because they studied together once did not mean they had to become friends or continue the arrangement for that matter.

 

The following day Dean stood awkwardly in the opening to the charms classroom after classes, clutching his books with a face that clearly said that he had no idea what he was doing there. To be fair, Castiel had not even though it an option that he would show up.

“Come on in, stranger!” Charlie waved at him, and Cas followed her example with an awkward wave of his own. Dean hesitated for only a moment before shutting the door behind him. His steps towards the table were hesitant, too. Castiel had seen a lot of looks on Dean’s face but never before had he looked as in doubt if he was welcome.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he joined them at the table, slowly placing his books as if he was ready to get up and run fast if they changed their minds.

At first, it was weird and quiet. Dean kept his head hidden behind the books, reading with a quiet determination impressing Castiel.

Castiel and Charlie followed his example, and the first hour or so, the only sound was the soft sound of their pens against parchment whenever they took notes lined with the soft turns of pages. 

“Dean?” Charlie spoke softly as if she did not want to interrupt the session. “You know you can ask if there is anything you want our help with, right? We usually don’t stay this quiet,” her smile was bright and warm.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, his shoulders slumping forward in a more relaxed position, now that it was clear that they weren’t going to ask him to leave the classroom.

 

It wasn’t until the end of their two-hours study session that Castiel acknowledged the elephant in the room. The atmosphere had been slightly off the entire time, and he knew that he couldn’t avoid talking with Dean about it any longer. It had probably been Charlie’s intention all along, he knew. She could be sneaky like that.

“I am sorry I refused to teach you the Patronus charm, Dean. I… I hadn’t realized how hard you had worked on your own,” he told the Gryffindor. “If you are interested, I am willing to give it a try.”

“You know our professor has tried teaching me, right?”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, returning Charlie’s smile. She was very satisfied with him, he knew.

For a moment Dean hesitated. “Not to sound like I do not appreciate this or anything… But why would you be able to teach me what he can’t?”

“I just learned to master it myself. I have the struggle and the steps clearer in memory. I can’t be sure I am able to do a difference, but if not, we could always drop it and focus on our schoolwork,” he shrugged, trying not to make a big deal out of the fact that Dean could not produce a Patronus.

The green-eyed wizard kept quiet, something settling in his eyes, hardening his mouth.  
“I am going to learn it,” he said with an admirable certainty.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, earning himself a wary smile from Dean and a big and happy one from Charlie. With that determination in mind, Dean was bound to learn it at some point. Castiel just hoped that he would be able to teach him before the end of the school year.


	6. Chapter 6

As it turned out, it was not a simple thing teaching Dean the Patronus Charm. Castiel had underestimated that badly. It wasn’t that Dean was stupid or lacked the ability, it was just that a lot of work was still needed. Castiel felt they had tried everything possible. He had begged Dean to try a different memory without effect (but then again, he couldn’t be sure Dean had done as asked). Had tried correcting everything from posture, the way the wand was swayed to nitpicking at Dean’s already perfect pronunciation of the charm.   
The excessive amount of time he used with Dean in private meant that Castiel slowly came to care about him. It was not something he would ever admit, not even to Charlie. But they did see quite a lot of each other, studying together as often as they did. At first, it had been once a week, but it quickly became twice a week with Charlie and twice a week just the two of them practicing the Patronus charm.

 

“I am never going to learn it,” Dean looked just about ready to throw his wand and stomp on it. It would remove the reminder that he was, according to himself, not worth teaching anything. He was pale, sweat making his short hair stick to his forehead. Sighing, he placed the wand on the table with annoyed and stiff movements, before pocketing his hands in his robes. Cas pretended not to notice that he was shaking with exhaust.

“Yes, you are,” Castiel insisted, trying not to sound as if Dean was a lost cause by sighing loudly with the words. It was hard, sometimes.

“I am not.”

“You have been able to master everything else I have taught you without any troubles.”

“Sure, but that ain’t exactly getting me to pass charms,” Dean insisted, brows pinched together in frustration.

“You can pass charms without doing a Patronus,” Cas reminded him gently.

“Maybe,” Dean grumbled, pacing a few steps to one side, then back again. “I need at the least an Excellent.”

It was the first mention of why Dean worked so hard on the charm. Everyone else had mastered at the least the shield at that point and a lot was able to form corporeal Patronus’. It hadn’t been required before the Wizarding War, but afterward, it was a requirement that they were taught the charm at N.E.W.T. level. Castiel could see the smart part of that, he really could, but it still did not mean that people like Dean, who could do so much besides from that charm, were getting their dreams crushed.

“Why?” he found himself asking.

“I want to be an Auror,” Dean admitted in that reluctant tone he tended to use around Castiel as soon as the questions got personal.

Castiel knew better than to press the matter, to pretend that Dean could be without casting a Patronus. There were so many lines of work which he could do with an Acceptable in charms, especially with the Patronus as being the only reason as to why the grade wasn’t higher. But not as an Auror.

For a few moments, both kept quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Cas was seated on one of the classroom tables, dangling his legs slowly forward and backward, Dean was looking out the window. The only thing disturbing the silence between them was the rain hitting the glass and Dean’s still uneven breathing.

“I gather that it may be too personal for me to ask… But are you sure that the memory you have chosen is strong enough to support the magic of a Patronus?” Castiel had tried to avoid that question, picking at Dean’s posture, his vocalization of the spell, his way of swinging the wand, the timing. They had reached the stage of something looking like a weak mist, but never more than that. He simply could not continue to work around the topic of the chosen memory.

“That is none of your damned business!” Dean suddenly shifted from exhausted to downright angry.

“It is. I am the one putting in hours and hours to teach you the charm. I am not asking you to give me the vivid details of the memory, I am merely asking if it is strong enough. I have tried everything else to get the charm to work but I cannot do more if the memory isn’t emotionally supportive enough,” he replied, voice strained with the need to be patient. Pointing out that Dean sounded angry was not going to do either of them good.

“You don’t have to. I don’t need your help!” Dean pointed out, his back still turned to Cas. Cas could see his hand clenching into fists.

“Well, what are we doing here if I am redundant to you, then? Because from where I stand it looks like you are still unable to perform the charm, even with my help,” Cas retorted, grinding his teeth.

“Oh, the mighty savior Castiel. The one who charmed!” Dean growled, finally turning towards Cas.

“What is your problem, Winchester? You were the one to ask me for help, remember?” he sneered. “I don’t have any obligations to do anything. You being pureblood and straight as a ruler does apparently not make you a better wizard, does it now?”

“I’m as good as you are!”

“I know!” he threw his arms out in frustration, getting to his feet. If anyone could get his blood boiling it was Dean for sure. “Prove it to me, Winchester, and cast that damn charm!”

Dean raised his wand with angry movements. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he yelled as if repeated the spell in a louder and angrier tone would do a difference. There was a mist for sure. No one could mistake it for a warm breath in a cold room, it was too shiny and strong for once.

Dean where panting hard, green eyes staring at the mist like he had never seen anything like that.

“You saw that?” his voice was cracking when his gaze shifted from the mist to Castiel.

“You did it!” Cas agreed, triumphant. How he had managed, Castiel had no clue, but the mist slowly fading was a clear proof.

Castiel found himself hugging armfuls of Dean less than a second after he had confirmed that the mist was not one of the Gryffindor’s imagination. Dean quickly withdrew, cheeks burning red while he mumbled a thank you.

Unable to resist the temptation, Cas send him a teasing smile.

“So are you inclined to agree that you previous memory may not have been the right choice?”

“I didn’t use a memory this time. So maybe?” Dean shrugged.

“You didn’t?” Cas repeated, blue eyes wide in confusion.

“No. I imagined the look on your face if I succeeded!” Dean answered with a wide grin, the skin crinkling slightly around his eyes. Castiel could not figure out if he was teasing or not. Rather than figuring out a smart answer he stared at Dean with narrow eyes and head tilted. Maybe he would give it away somehow.

“Are you up for more studying or shall we call it a night?” Dean interrupted Castiel’s staring, more serious than before, though his voice was still bright with satisfaction.

“I don’t mind continuing.”

Unlike Dean, he did not have the attention span of a five-year-old. It was fun how studying with one another taught him stuff like that. Dean could focus if he could do something else while studying, like tapping his fingers to a tune in his head, biting his lip or play with a quill.

Most of the time Cas found it annoying (endearing) if he was being honest. It had taken him a few study sessions to get used to it to a degree where he was no longer distracted each time Dean started doing something new to keep his fingers occupied.

It also turned out that Dean learned a lot better through being practical rather than reading the books. He was a stable enough reader, though a little slow. It just seemed that his brain couldn’t wire around it until he had somehow made it physical, either by practicing a spell, drawing it down (his drawings was brilliant) or something similar. Unfortunately, they couldn’t brew all the potions they studied, otherwise, Cas was sure Dean would have done so too.

Flitwick had been thrilled when Dean had shown him the progress with the Patronus charm. When Dean told him that he had been practicing hard on not only the Patronus charm but other charms as well, he was asked to do a show-off. Other advanced charms had not caused him any trouble, and in the end of the lesson their professor had awarded Gryffindor with 10 house-points as a reward for his hard work.

Dean also told Castiel that their other professors had noted his heightened level in school. He was obviously proud and Castiel understood why.

 

“May I ask you something, Dean?” Castiel interrupted their study session. He had noticed Dean growing increasingly restless and figured that both could do with a break before he’d snap at the Gryffindor for annoying him.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, quickly putting down his quill.

“Why do you want to be an Auror?” Cas moved to a more comfortable seating that did not include a heavy book on his lap.

“My dad…” Dean hesitated again, breath hitching before he continued. “My dad was an Auror,” he swallowed thickly before continuing. “I want to continue the family business.”

“Shut me up if you don’t want to talk about it,” Castiel wanted to lean forward, place a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder. Things obviously weren’t alright and wouldn’t be so just because Cas told him so. Dean did not talk much about himself, but he had still been able to pick up bits and pieces that so far seemed to draw a picture of a horrible past.

“It is alright, I suppose. I should talk more about it, Sam says. But he is acting like a big girl sometimes, with all his chick-flick and talking,” a weak smile made Dean’s lips quirk up when he mentioned Sam. His tone was fond, even with the underlying sadness. “My dad died in the Wizarding Wars,” Dean shrugged like it did not mean a thing.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Cas was not sure what else to say. They were empty words, words not doing a difference to make Dean’s difficult situation any better.

Dean laughed, a bitter, sad sound. Castiel’s chest ached with the want to make it better, somehow.

“You haven’t heard the half of it,” Dean told him, a smile on his face but eyes wild with emotions, barely repressed.

“I have all night,” he gently replied, unable to stop himself before the words spilled between them. Castiel was surprised to notice that he meant it. That he would listen to whatever Dean had to say, however long it took him to tell it. They weren’t exactly friends, barely study-buddies. It wasn’t like with Charlie, with who they would talk about anything besides school during their short breaks. Between him and Dean, the tone had grown civil, but the topics were always light. 

Castiel had found himself enjoying Dean’s company. Slowly the loud-mouthed talk-before-you-think Winchester had grown on him. He hadn’t even noticed the transition.  
Dean stopped looking pained for a moment to stare at Cas, eyes wide and round in surprise.

“I… I don’t need to talk about it,” Dean said, just a little too fast, voice a little too hesitant for that to be the truth. His face, however, did not give him away, and Cas found himself wondering if Dean believed that lie. Probably.

“When you are shutting down the negative emotions, the good ones go with them,” he found himself saying, something his dad had told him before he had disappeared on them. Castiel had been a big kid at the time, not understanding what had been said, but later he had learned it the hard way.

He could see the emotions shift on Dean’s face, anger at first, eyes and mouth hardening as if he were ready to tell Castiel to fuck off. Slowly that faded into something softer and far more fragile that he was not able to fully understand.

“Yeah. Maybe you are right. Dunno,” Dean shrugged. “I don’t want people to look differently at me, you know? And well, they tend to do if they get to know my story.”

“You will always be an insufferable asshole to me, Winchester,” Castiel assured him. Just like he had hoped, that got Dean to smile, something looking almost genuine.

“Right back at ya, Novak!” Dean grinned, for a moment looking close to being okay. Then his face grew serious once again, green eyes dulling as the laughter died. The light didn’t return to them as Dean kept staring at the table rather than Cas. 

Both wizards kept quiet for a while -- Dean obviously debating on whether to tell Castiel or not, Castiel because he wanted to give Dean space.

“My mom died when I was 4 and Sam was an infant. It was supposedly a house fire, but Dad… Dad never believed that. He believed it was some dark wizard, seeking revenge from the ones he had killed during the first war,” he sighed, looking down at his hands rather than keeping eye contact. “Dad died before we started school, on the job, during the beginning of the second war. We didn’t have any family left to take us, so one of Dad’s old friends from before the wars took us in. I see that man as my dad, now, but back then? I dreaded the thought of going to Hogwarts I had to go. I was glad when I learned that the opening of the school had been put off by a year, because of the renovations, you know? A year more to teach Sammy to be alright without me.”

It occurred to Cas that Dean’s tale was lacking any emotions. There was nothing about how he had felt, the description almost flat like he could have told the story of someone else. It was not that Castiel did not believe him, quite the contrary, but he doubted Dean had ever dealt with the emotions linked to the traumas. It was a mere statement of facts because Dean was unable to handle more than that. 

“I suppose a part of me expected Bobby’s place to burn down with him and Sam in it, while I was at school. It sounds stupid, I know. But… I had these horrible nightmares for so long. Making the distinction between what was real and what wasn’t became real hard at times. It got easier when Sam started school as well…” Dean admitted, bringing a knee towards his body while lifting his head, looking at Cas. His green eyes was gated with emotions nicely locked in place somewhere where Cas had yet to gain access.

“I am sorry Dean. I didn’t…”

“Didn’t realize that my horrible behavior was because of my shit?” Dean interrupted, barking out the bitter laugh once again. “That there could be an explanation to why? Yeah, me neither.”

At a loss of words, Castiel kept his mouth shut. Dean wasn't exactly apologizing, maybe he never would, but that had never been the purpose with any of it.

“I just tried to fit in, you know?” Dean sounded so sad, but when Castiel caught his gaze, the green eyes were once again guarded, emotions on lockdown.

No one said that getting to know Dean Winchester would be an easy task.


	7. Chapter 7

It took March with intense studies before Dean could cast the corporeal Patronus. They still exercised the charm as part of the class once every other week or so, but the focus had been moved from that and to other advanced charms they had to learn before exams. Dean aced those, to Castiel’s delight.

Castiel had learned quite a lot about him during their two months of studying together. Dean had turned out to be a very kind person, something he would never have guessed him to be.  
Sam came as part of the Charlie and Dean -package deal, and Cas found himself quickly growing fond of the floppy-haired kid. Age mattered less with someone as mature, clever and thoughtful as Sam.

The only downside to having Sam join their group occasionally was the looks he and Charlie exchanged whenever they thought that Dean or he did not look. They weren’t subtle, and he could easily read the way they smiled at one another like they understood something. Especially when their looks were exchanged mainly whenever he and Dean sat close or leaned into one another’s space.

 

“So, class, this will be the last lesson dedicated to the Patronus-charm, as most of you have already mastered it. Those of you who still struggle: Fear not, you will learn it in time with work and dedication.” Flitwick announced at the start of their lesson.

“Let’s cast it in pairs this time, shall we?” he suggested, letting them team up. Since Dean already stood beside Cas, it was just a matter of exchanging nods. No one in the class was shocked by them teaming up, the rumor of Dean studying with Cas had long lost the interest of the general population.

Charlie was teaming up with Dorothy. Castiel knew Charlie had harbored a crush on Dorothy for quite a while. He hoped she was not about to have her heart crushed.

He watched with patience as the rest of the class let their Patronus’ spring free from their wands. Most had managed the corporeal, only a few were still left at the shield state. The shield was highly effective and more than that wasn’t usually needed. Unless the wizard or witch had dreams in the Auror department or something along those lines, that was. 

Charlie’s hedgehog Patronus was possibly the cutest of the bunch.

“Dean and Castiel, if you will end the lesson?” Flitwick asked, smiling towards them. He knew Dean had learned the charm, even seen his Patronus in private after a lesson, but the rest of the class had not.

“Sure,” Dean agreed, a bright grin on his lips when he looked at their professor. Cas nodded, all but more serious.

“Expecto Patronum!” Dean stated, Castiel following him just half a second after like an echo. From Dean’s wand, the silver mist quickly formed itself into a big dog; unmistakably a Labrador. The first time Castiel had seen it, he had found it to be incredibly fitting. Dean was as loyal as that dog breed and about as happy for food. He was, however, not sure if Dean was fond of water and bathing.

While Dean’s dog formed, Castiel’s horse did as well, the two animals staring at one another for a moment before moving forward with mirror movements. It was like they did not have eyes to anything but one another. Castiel kept his gaze on them, too confused by their behavior to do anything but that. Deans dog lifted its head while the horse lowered his, nose and muzzle touching. They seemed to sniff one another for a second, deeming the other alright. Then the dog gently licked the horse’s muzzle, letting the horse in turn rub it’s back with gentle lips in the manner that horses tended to do with friends.

Castiel was in awe. Touching other humans, like his horse had done with Dean, was a rare instant and this was even rarer. None of the other Patronus animals shown that day had interacted at all. He knew what it meant, but part of him feared to be right.

As the animals started to fade, the charm wearing out, he shifted his gaze from their still recognizable forms and to Charlie. Her mouth was parted, eyes big. She did not look confused, not in the least.

“Well done, Dean!” Flitwick announced, tearing the whole class out of the bubble created by the way their Patronus animals had acted.

Castiel deliberately did not look at Dean on his way out of class.

 

Castiel had been out of it since their Charms class. His work was sloppy at best in the classes afterward and as soon as the bell rang to announce it was lunchtime, he all but ran towards the library to get his head in the books. The rumors of the interaction would soon flood the entire castle, and he wanted to know for sure what it meant before that happened. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe it was not a soulmate bond. Maybe there was another reason, some explanation he had not thought about.

All the books he could get his hands on said the same. Soulmate bonds were a rare, unsure thing. One of the only known ways to be sure of an established bond was the way the pairs Patronus’ would act with one another. Patronus’, being the guardian, the projection of positive emotions, would show the affinity for the other part, even without the witch or wizard knowing that the bond had formed.

“Shit!” he whispered, closing the books and placing them where they belonged. Out of all things he had thought could happen by teaching Dean the charm, a soulmate bond had certainly not been on the list.

“Dammit!” Castiel continued, running his fingers through his hair. He was pacing, restlessness filling his body. To where, he had no idea. Did not really give a damn, if he had to be honest.  
If anyone else had read the books or heard the stories, they would know.

How long before the entire school knew that somehow, someone high above had decided on making them something they weren’t? Forced them into a connection that neither of them necessarily wanted?

 

“You know what that means, dammit, Dean!” Charlie’s hushed voice sounded as clear as if she were standing right beside him. Which she very well could be, crammed into a toilet booth. In the men’s bathroom, but that kind of thing had never meant much for Charlie, Castiel reasoned.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, voice lowered as well. There was a touch of panic to it. “I just… Charlie, is there any way it could mean something else?”

“I don’t know. You should ask Flitwick instead. He should know if there is any other explanation for the way your Patronus animals acted with one another,” she sounded annoyed.

“I really do not want to do that,” Dean admitted. “Besides, you know that stuff just as well.”

“I know learning it like that sucks, Dean,” Charlie agreed, voice suddenly soft.

“Why him, of all people, Charlie? Why not someone…”

Castiel already knew what Dean was going to say. He flushed the toilet, drowning out the words and hurried out of the boot, quickly rinsing his hands. Why not someone Dean was more compatible with? Why not someone less weird, someone who everybody liked. Why not a damned girl? It was clear as day that he was not interested in anyone with a dick, the way he had treated Castiel about his sexuality earlier on.

It should not hurt knowing that Dean still thought about him like that. It shouldn’t make his throat tight or his eyes sting. He didn’t care.

Dean had basically said that he was not good enough to be Dean’s soulmate. It was a rare thing. Something from the fairytales, the books, something almost never heard of in the real world. Didn’t change the fact that Dean wanted nothing to do with him. Didn’t change that his soulmate would rather hide in the loo and talk with Charlie than find him and figure things out. Didn’t change the fact that no matter how much Castiel wanted to deny it, he liked Dean and overhearing him like that… Castiel shook his head, hurrying outside to get some fresh air and put distance between him and Dean.

 

Castiel decided on not showing for their study date. It was possible Dean would stay away as well, but he was not in the mood for talking with Charlie either. Instead, he used the time on carefully writing a letter to his family, to explain what had happened. With rumors traveling the way they did it was a question of time before his family would learn that he indeed had a soulmate, and while they would never act upon it, he still felt obligated to be the bringer of news like that.

Castiel used most of the afternoon writing the letter, dreading the thought of going to the great hall for his dinner. At that point, it was likely that everyone had heard what had happened. Staying away, however, was not really an option either. Not that he couldn’t go without food, but he had to show himself, show Dean that he did not care about what he thought of their bond. His absence would just cause more speculations. But he really dreaded it. 

Hiding among the masses, he got into the great hall without drawing any attention. Charlie was sitting at the Gryffindor table, talking with Dean and Sam. Dean looked… Castiel had no idea how Dean looked, just that gazing upon him made something clench painfully in him. He tore away his gaze, searched for a place at the Ravenclaw table to sit. Just a moment after Charlie joined him, something in her expression he could not read.

“We should talk, after dinner,” she said.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” he answered as the food appeared on the table.

“Sure you do. I am not letting you sneak around this one, Novak.”

Castiel had no convenient answer for that, so he settled for rolling his eyes before pouring himself some food.

People kept sending him weird glances, leaving his skin feeling like it was crawling with ants. It was uncomfortable. None dared to ask him outright, but he could see the way they were whispering, see them look at him like they could figure out what was to happen if they stared hard enough. Castiel knew they wouldn’t stop talking. He scowled down at his food, appetite gone. Picking bits and pieces, he managed to get some down.

 

After dinner, he was dragged towards an empty classroom. Charlie had hurried to snatch him, effectively making running impossible by grabbing his wrist with force.

Briefly, he wondered if they really were the only ones using the rooms to study outside of school lessons. Castiel had only encountered others in the classrooms twice during the year, and neither of those times had he interrupted study sessions.

“So, I assume you do know what is going on with the Patronus’,” Charlie stated.

Castiel slowly nodded, yes, of course, he did. “I checked in the library after class,” he admitted, gaze on the floor rather than her.

“Dean knows too,” she told him.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, looking up at her. He feared that she got caught between him and Dean and that she would not choose him.

“I don’t think he knows what to do with it,” Charlie continued, “I mean, it isn’t exactly an easy thing to learn in a class of all places?”

“No.”

“But I really think you guys should talk. Figure out what you want to do with it. Or more importantly: How you are going to approach everyone else. It isn’t like you are forced to be together because of it, but well, yeah,” Charlie rambled away, moving her hands as if she wanted to make her point clear. Castiel wasn’t sure that there was a point, besides that he and Dean needed to talk.

“Charlie, he doesn’t want me,” Castiel pointed out when she finally shut up.

“You don’t know.”

“I overheard you talking in the bathroom.”

“You clearly didn’t hear everything,” Charlie crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes.

“I heard more than enough,” he sighed. “And to be honest Charlie, I am not sure I mind that much. I know we have been friendlier towards one another, but he is not my cup of tea.”

Castiel very deliberately did not think about Dean laughing when they worked together, how that laugh made him feel like he had accomplished something. Castiel did not think about the pride that had filled him when Dean had managed the Patronus charm, how part of him had hoped that the Labrador would greet him like his horse had greeted Dean.

Castiel did not feel a thing for Dean.

Charlie gave him a stern look, then sighed. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” Was all she said, before turning around and leaving him standing, wondering what to make of that.

 

As if there was an unspoken agreement, Dean stayed away from the study sessions, just like Castiel kept away from him in class. They didn’t talk. Charlie kept him posted on the rumors. Castiel tried telling her that he didn’t care about rumors. When she told him about a nasty one, he pretended that it didn’t hurt him. It seemed that most people thought Dean had refused to have anything to do with him. It was an understandable reasoning, he figured somewhat bitterly. Especially considering how Dean had suddenly found a new interested in his earlier fling, Lisa.

Seeing him with her shouldn’t hurt. It didn’t.

If anything, it just confirmed what he had already known. That Dean was in no way interested in him. It wasn’t a surprise.

 

“How did you trick him into bonding with you?” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Spinning on his heel Castiel stood face to face with Cole and his snarling face.

“I didn’t choose this,” Castiel tried to reason, but before he could finish, Cole continued:  
“Yeah, I don’t believe you. You don’t get the possible most heterosexual person to soulmate with you without doing something!” Cole growled, inching closer towards Castiel. His entire body was tense and angry. “Believe me, I have been there. He is not interested.”

“Well, I can’t blame him for not being interested in you, Cole. You are a pathetic slime sack and everyone damned well knows that.”

“Look who is talking,” Cole drawled, inching closer towards Castiel.

“I don’t want anything to do with you!” Cas snarled, fighting the urge to take a step back. He was not letting Cole win this one.

“That was not what you said last time,” Cole lifted a brow, moving closer as he talked. “I remember you moaning my name, begging for more.” Cole was standing in Castiel’s face, close enough that he could feel the huffs of breath with every exhale. Years ago, he would have found it sexy with Cole, now he was just downright terrified.

“Get the hell away from me!”

And for once, Cole listened and stepped back, suddenly moving like a basilisk had appeared instead of Castiel. Slowly he turned around, just to find Dean standing behind him, green eyes roaring with anger.

“Did he hurt you?” Dean demanded.

“No. He is all talk,” Castiel sighed.

“Good!” Dean nodded a little, mostly to himself it would seem. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”   
And with those words the Winchester decided to walk away, leaving Castiel confused and angry. How could Dean say so, when he had been the one to hurt him the most? 

 

“Seriously Charlie, I don’t want to talk with him,” Cas repeated himself.

“You should!” she insisted.

“He can damned well talk to me if he feels like it!” he could feel himself grow angry. “Dammit Charlie, he has not one a single thing indicating that he could be just a tiny bit interested in actually having something to do with me. He hasn’t talked to me, hasn’t tried to initiate contact. He knows where we study in the afternoons, he knows that you know and he could just go and knock on that fucking door and talk to me. I don’t want anything to do with him. He can rot in hell for all I care.”

“Have you ever considered that he may think the same? That you don’t initiate contact or seek him out?”

“He is the one who has been bullying me for years. He owes me at the least this.”

“I can’t say that I do not agree,” Charlie sighed, “but life is not that simple, Cas. You can’t just decide that he owes you something and then expect him to live by that.”

“I don’t get why you keep pressing the matter. It has nothing to do with you!” Castiel could feel the anger boiling underneath his skin. Why couldn’t she just leave it be?

“It damned well has! You keep asking me, you keep reading the books on soulmates rather than study with me. Your grades will go down if you don’t get yourself together!”

“Do you know how the soulmate bond forms?” He asked, coolly. 

Charlie just looked at him with her what-does-this-have-to-do-with-anything gaze.

“With a kiss. I didn’t kiss Dean voluntarily,” his tone was bitter even in his own ears. If she had not played that damned prank, he would not be in the situation where his should fear for his grades (again) or for the judgment of everyone around him. He damned well shouldn’t have to.  
Charlie apparently picked up where his train of thoughts was moving, crossing her arms and leaning back on her heels. He could see her jaws moving, the considering look on her face.

“I didn’t drug you with anything having that effect, Cas. It wasn’t a love potion.”

“Then what the hell did you drug me with?”

She stood for another moment, then took him by the arm, dragging him into the nearest classroom. Once the door was firmly shut, she answered.

“Felix Felicis was in those chocolates. Very little, rather diluted, but…”

“What?” Castiel interrupted. He stood there, mouth open dump, wondering if she was once again trying to prank him somehow. But Charlie remained serious, no one jumped out from under the desks to tell him that it had been a joke.

“I know it sounds weird, and believe me, had I known I would not have done it!” she continued, “but Sam and I, we figured, that you know, it would take quite some luck to get you two to talk to one another and figure things out. We were tired of looking at your guys pining after one another, and we agreed that it would be the best option.”

“How did you get it?”

“Sam won some a while back. He hadn’t had a chance to use it, so…” Charlie trailed off, shrugging like that explained everything.

“Why would he use it on something like this?”

“Because he knows his brother damned well, Cas. Sam knows what Dean looks like when he is harboring a crush on someone and is too much of a coward to do something about it. And well, I didn’t need to talk much to you to learn that the feeling is mutual.”

“I am not crushing on Dean!” Cas denied, almost believing himself.

“Maybe not. But you are soulmates. And you should at the least talk about that,” she pointed out. “Do you have any idea how rare it is?”

“I read the books.”

“Sure. But do you know anyone who is actually soulmates?”

“I am muggle born. I am not sure things work out like that for muggles,” Castiel told her, rolling his eyes.

“Ever heard of someone then?”

“No,” he found himself agreeing. It was rare. Didn’t change the fact that he was not forced to act upon it if he didn’t feel like it.

“I don’t think you realize the significance of it,” Charlie sent him a look like he was devastatingly hopeless. Or like she wanted to strangle him. He couldn’t tell.

“Maybe not. But it really doesn’t make a difference, Charlie. I don’t like him, he doesn’t like me. End of story.”

“It is kind of cute that you actually believe that. And infuriatingly annoying.” 

He shrugged, not knowing what to say to that. For a moment Charlie kept quiet.

“Don’t you find it peculiar that the result of Felix Felicis is the two of you kissing, resulting in a soulmate bond?”

“I suppose,” was all she got out of him. “Just, drop it, Charlie, please? I don’t want to deal with this too. I have my exams, my grades, to focus on. I don’t need a freaking soulmate on top of it. I just... I know it may be hard to grasp, but I am really not interested.” 

Her posture changed as significantly as if a balloon was popped. It was like someone sucked out every argument waiting to be said.

“Yeah, I get it. I am sorry that I keep pressing the matter like this,” she ran a hand through her red hair, smiling weak and apologetic.

“I really want to see you happy Cas. Dean as well,” it was clear that she was thinking something along the line of ‘and I think you could have something really great together’ even if she didn’t say it out loud. He knew her that well.

“I know Dean is too proud to ask, but I think he misses to study with us. Would you be alright if he joined back in?”

“Just for studies? No plans about playing our wingman?” he tried to glare at her to get her to understand the seriousness of the situation.

“No playing wingman,” she agreed with a sigh and rolling eyes. Cas wasn’t too sure that it really counted as an answer.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean did join their next study session. Castiel somehow found himself surprised by that - or maybe it was the way Dean treated him like nothing had ever happened.

It was clear that something had, however, even if they both refused to talk about it. Things were just a little more awkward between them, the conversation not flowing as easily. There hadn’t been anything easy about their relationship before, but knowing that he looked at his soulmate? It set off something in Cas. Made it hard to be around Dean, somehow.

He had been starting to care about the Winchester before they found out what they were. It wasn’t like he just stopped, but he worked hard not to let it show. Castiel did not want to feed into the rumors. Occasionally his friendlier side bled through and Charlie looked so immensely smug during those moments, giving him more reasons not to seem overly friendly. If Dean and he sat too close it would be interpreted as something entirely different than friendship. If they smiled at one another, it would a sure sign of their love growing. Castiel didn’t want people whispering behind his back more than they already did. Everything was stiff and awkward enough as it was. 

They didn’t talk outside their study session for the same reason. It wasn’t something they had agreed on – that was just how it turned out to be.

 

Castiel’s family decided on replying to his letter, finally. It couldn’t have been an easy one to swallow, he figured. Gabriel knew enough of the magical world to understand what was going on, whereas his mom was pretty much oblivious to everything. She wouldn’t understand the old magic in such a bond. He wouldn’t be surprised if she thought he was harboring a massive teenage crush and made it all up. 

Reading the letter, it became clear that Gabriel had explained something to their mother. Quite how soulmates had been laid out for her he wasn’t too sure of, but it seemed that she got that he wasn’t just crushing hopelessly. And for that, he was grateful. Not so much about the part where his mother reminded him that STD’s were a thing and that he should think about that if he ever chose to interact in sexual intercourse with said soulmate. Cas burned the letter to a crisp after reading, making sure that nobody else would ever read it. He was relieved that his mother and Gabe seemed to understand and be completely alright with his soulmate being male, but the letter had been mostly cringe-worthy.

 

For the better part of two whole weeks, Charlie kept her word and their study sessions were simply that. She kept her promise of not playing matchmaker. But slowly, he started noticing the small things, and putting them together made it so very obvious what she was doing. 

Simple things like pointing out Cas’ good sides to Dean and vice versa became a daily occurrence, Charlie generally looking smug whenever she managed to get either of the boys to agree on something positive about the other.

Sometimes Castiel would even agree with her on something nice about Dean, just to see the way she smiled.

Charlie also left them alone for periods of time, claiming she had forgotten a book somewhere, that she was needing water or a third equally ridiculous excuse to leave them. Charlie could be very creative with her mindset.

 

Just before another one of their agreed sessions, Charlie had grabbed him, said she had ‘urgent female business’ and promised to be back as soon as possible. Then she had headed for the girl’s bathrooms with a small wave and bouncy steps.

The first half an hour or so, it wasn’t a problem. Dean and Castiel had talked enough without Charlie around to keep things going, to help one another with their homework and parchments.

“So…” Dean stated, an hour in. “Do you think she is planning to show today?”

“She said ‘urgent female business’,” Cas made air quotes around it to emphasize, “I didn’t ask for elaboration.”

Dean shuddered in agreement, turning his eyes to the pages once again. It didn’t take long for him to grow restless, fingers tapping at the edge of the table.

“Seriously though. No matter how urgent, she can’t use a fucking hour.”

“Well, I highly doubt her female business have anything to do with the amount of time this has taken,” Cas pointed out. 

“What do you mean?”

“She is trying to get us to talk. About the soulmate stuff,” he explained with a sigh. Dean should have seen that coming, he felt.

“She is what now?” Dean repeated, dumbfounded. 

“Trying to get us to talk…” Castiel repeated with fake patience.

“Yeah, I got that the first time, thank you very much.”

“Then why did you ask what she is trying to do?”

“Because… I can’t see why she cares.” Dean tried.

“She likes us both. She wants us to be happy. Preferably together, because the soulmate bond is too rare not to do anything about.” Cas rolled his eyes with feeling. “So, I believe this is her trying to get us to talk. I doubt very much she is coming to this study session.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Dean returned to his book, looking on the verge of asking Castiel if he did want to talk about it.  
Their mutual silence lasted another half an hour until Dean’s restless moving around got to his nerves. How could someone be so annoying without annoying themselves? He had no idea.

“Dammit Dean, are you completely incapable of sitting still for more than a minute at a time?” he growled annoyed, fingers twitching around the book he held.

“I’m not.”

“Then why do you keep moving like something has crawled up your leg?”

“I am not.” Dean stared at him annoyed just to return to his book. Not two minutes passed before he was once again fidgeting like he was deliberately trying to annoy Castiel. If that was the case, Dean was doing a pretty good job at it.

“Alright. Fine. I give up. Do you want to talk? Cool. We can talk. I am not getting anything studied with you moving around like you are!”

“I don’t want to talk, Cas. This is not my idea, you know? This is Charlie’s doing. She is the one who wants us to talk!” Dean retorted, annoyed.

For a moment, he said nothing. Dean kept staring at him, green eyes intense like they wanted to stare to the bottom of Castiel’s soul. It was unnerving.

“Maybe we should, though,” Cas finally said, breathing out heavily with the words.

“Maybe,” Dean hesitantly agreed.

“So, I suppose…” Castiel had no idea where to start. “I hadn’t exactly thought soulmates to be anything I should worry about. I had read about it, sure enough, but... As a muggle-born, you do not get those very amazing stories about meeting your soulmate. I didn’t hear them, really. I had never expected this to happen.” The ‘with you’ went unsaid.

“I did grow up. Hearing about it, that is,” Dean bit his lip, breaking his intense gaze to stare at the floor. His jaws were moving like he was debating something, so Castiel kept quiet, giving him space to consider.

“My parents were soulmates,” Dean finally mumbled. “It was real hard on my dad, losing mom. I always thought that if that was what soulmates looked like - a beat down, broken dad - It wasn’t something I wanted. And here I am,” he gestured vaguely towards Cas with the arm not supporting his book, still looking towards the floor.

“I am so sorry, Dean.”

“That is not going to make a difference.”

“I know,” he sighed. Didn’t change the fact that they had to talk at some point. No matter how much Charlie’s attempts had been getting on his nerves, he knew her suggestions had been valid. I wasn’t like they could ignore the problem, making it go away with time. Castiel was not too sure he wanted to try anything with Dean, though. Albeit the other wizard was physically attractive, Castiel was not sure he was attracted to his personality as well. Dean tended to be obnoxious, annoying, provocative. His way of caring, his passion, didn’t quite make up for it.   
Not always, anyway. Getting to know Dean had surely made a significant difference (Charlie and her plans did seem to work out well like that), but Castiel still wasn’t sure if it would be enough. Maybe the answer to his question was simply to get to know Dean better. Maybe it was taking the distance once again, making sure to have nothing to do with him. He didn’t know. There wasn’t an easy answer, no matter how much he searched for it.

“We could try,” he stopped his own thoughts, shocked that he had said that out loud.

“Try?” Dean repeated. “Try what, exactly?”

“To see where this leads. I propose that we start with a friendship, see how that goes?”

“You want to try out this soulmate crap?” he sounded angry enough for something in Castiel to hurt. Why was Dean so opposed to having anything to do with him besides the study group session?

“Yes, that was my suggestion,” Cas agreed, trying not to let it show exactly how much Dean’s words had gotten to him.

“No. I am not going to put myself through that.”

“Is the thought of being with me really that horrendous?” Castiel asked, unable to hold back the anger and hurt in his voice.

For a moment, Dean looked shocked, like he had expected entirely different words to come out of Cas’ mouth.

“No,” he slowly answered, body language as if he were moving towards a hurt animal.

“Then why not?”

“I told you why. My dad went nuts after losing mom. I am not willingly putting myself through that, dammit.”

“It is not like I am going to die,” Cas sighed. “And no one said we would take our relationship there – we could remain friends, everything considered.”

“You can’t promise you’re not going to die,” Dean retorted, stubbornly.

“No, I can’t. But to be honest, I am willing to take the chance. I am your soulmate for god knows what reason, and I am not letting that go to waste.”

“There are two of us playing this game, Castiel. You can’t force me to care about you, can’t force me to spend time with you if I don’t want to,” Dean pointed out, voice angry.

“I can’t,” he slowly agreed, “but I highly doubt that you don’t want to be around me. In that case, you would have left when realizing that Charlie wasn’t going to be here.” Dean would probably still have asked for help with the Patronus charm, given that Castiel without a doubt had been the best in class with that charm. They would still have spent that time together, out of something as simple as need. But Dean wasn’t needing the help desperately anymore. He was more than smart enough to do the parchments they were working on by himself and still earn good grades. The only one doubting Dean’s abilities was Dean himself.

The green-eyed wizard kept quiet for a while, just staring at Castiel.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t know. I just can’t right now, okay?”

“I am not asking you to be gay for me suddenly, Dean. I am merely suggesting that getting to know another – as friends – couldn’t hurt.”

He watched Dean breathing in and out heavily like the words made him nervous. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Let’s do that.”

“Okay. Sure,” Cas agreed, nodding. Charlie would be so happy with herself, he figured, but he could live with that. If Dean turned out to be a horrendous person underneath his whole pretentious douchebag persona, Cas wasn’t forced to be in a relationship with him. It wasn’t like the soulmate bond would crush them if they didn’t. Or so he hoped, anyway. His knowledge in the area was limited at best. Well, it wasn’t like he would turn down the opportunity to read more, albeit it wasn’t his favorite topic.

And maybe a tiny part of him felt satisfied with the fact that he had managed to get Dean to agree to be friends.

 

As it turned out after intense amounts of reading, there was no such thing as dying if not engaging with one’s soulmate. At the least, not in the books Castiel had access to. The books, however, were advising strongly towards being with one’s soulmate. Castiel was not surprised by that, considered the amount of pressure they had already met towards getting together. No book seemed to have any real explanation for this, other than being with one’s soulmate guaranteed a life full of happiness, love and natural heightened fertility. That last part made him laugh so hard others had turned to stare at him.

 

Oh well, if he chose to be with Dean, fertility would surely be none of their concern, given that both were dudes. And while the muggle world had heard about males getting pregnant because they had been born women, it wasn’t exactly like born-male pregnancy was a thing in the wizarding world. There had been experiments, sure, but none had proved successful.

Still having an obnoxious, big smile on his face, he walked toward the greenhouses where Professor Longbottom usually held their lessons in Herbology. A few theoretical courses had taken place in classrooms around the school, but it had been rare. 

“Why are you smiling like your raisin cookie turned out to be with chocolate chips?” Charlie caught up with him, looking somewhere between confused and happy as well.

“I just learned that soulmate-pairs have heightened fertility. I thought it was hilarious,” he tried to explain.

Charlie just shook her head, laughing, though he suspected she laughed at him for finding it funny.

The lesson turned out to be interesting. Herbology generally was, but some it was defiantly one of the best lessons Castiel had been to. Professor Longbottom had prepared a practice quiz for them, identifying different magical plants based on their sprouts. I had been a far cry from easy. Castiel barely got most right, but he had enjoyed the challenging task. Some of the plants looked almost identical as sprouts, whereas others had been clearly different from the rest at the four-leafed stage.


	9. Chapter 9

“God dammit Dean!”

“God dammit yourself, Castiel!” Dean retorted angrily.

“It is not that hard! Stop making a big deal out of it!”

“It is for me, you idiot. Why do you keep on pressuring me to do stuff I obviously cannot do? Do you get a fucking thrill out of it, huh?” Dean wasn’t yelling, yet, but the underlying growl in his voice where the step before. “Does it make you feel all high and mighty?”

“Oh, for fuck's sake. If you don’t want to learn it, FINE. I am not going to keep wasting my time trying to teach you something you don’t want to be taught.”

“Are you saying that I am a waste of time?” Dean’s voice hitched upwards. Castiel had to calm him down somehow if he didn’t want a full-blown fight. Sometimes Dean’s anger was directed towards the task, and the energy could be used for something useful. But mostly it just resulted in the two of them yelling ugly things at one another and not talking for days while Charlie tried to make things work out anyway.

“Quite the opposite!” Castiel kept his tone even, but could not help but to roll his eyes. “But you are thick-skulled, and if you used that energy you are using on telling me you can’t on learning the task ahead, you would already have learnt to do it!”

“Is it completely out of your ability to grasp that maybe, just maybe, I am not able to learn? That just because you can, it doesn’t mean that I will be able to?”

“Fine, then!” Cas sighed. “I am not going to fight you over this, Dean. I just feel that you should strive to reach your full potential – and you are currently not because you are being stubborn about things.”

“I am not stubborn!” Dean answered stubbornly.

“Yes. Yes, you are,” he sighed, sending Charlie a look. She has been entirely quiet during their tiny fight, knowing very well not to interfere unless she wanted things to go sour fast. The few times she had done so, she had ended with their combined anger directed towards her. It was the times they got friends again the fastest, both feeling sorry for yelling at Charlie.

 

Fighting like an old married couple seemed to be a regular thing between the two of them, Charlie remarked one day after a study session where they had once again ended up bickering. Cas had agreed with her, tiredly. She also pointed out that they seemed to fight more the days Dean had been close to Lisa in a physical way or if he had talked a lot about her. Castiel had denied that there was anything in that. It was coincidental. 

He hated fighting with Dean, hated how it made something in him ache with the desire to make things work between them, no matter how dignified his anger had been. It wasn’t fair that he wanted to fix things whenever Dean looked like a kicked puppy.

But along with the fights, there were long gazes. Whenever Castiel found himself staring at Dean, he was usually met by a pair of green eyes, as if Dean had been looking at him as well.

 

Sam sometimes joined their study-sessions. While he was a few years younger and a year behind academicly , his mature way of acting and his ability to study quietly made him welcome. It was entertaining to watch the difference between Dean chewing on a quill and tapping his foot while studying with Sam who sat focused and quiet.

During one such session, they decided to make things practical. All were familiar with Protego, the shield charm, so casting hexes would do no harm if they kept up their shields.

Dean cast a curse Castiel’s way when Cas was inattentive. The bracelet grew warm against his skin, and before any knew what had happened Dean was it by the tickling-hex attacked him, purple ribbons curling around his body and tickling him until Castiel found a way to undo it.

 

Walking to the classroom they had claimed as theirs, Castiel listened to the heavy rain outside. It was close to a thunderstorm. He was glad that he hadn’t had any classes requiring him to go outside that day.

His thoughts were abruptly stopped by Cole walking into him.

“What do you want?” Cas found himself sneering. Cole and he had not had anything to do with one another since the last time the other wizard had acted like an assbutt.

“I just wondered how you have managed to get in on Dean’s good side. Have you hexed him? Forced him?” Cole’s tone was light, pretentiously innocent.

“Fuck you!” Cas spat.

“No, fuck you,” Cole answered, stepping closer. The smile Castiel had once found so charming made him want to gag. Castiel started backing away before he even realized that Cole had started moving towards him. Having Cole in his personal space had once been an arousing experience. He felt nothing like that at the moment.

“What have you done with him, Cas?” Cole was close enough for Cas to feel the warmth from his breath. His heel hit the back of the wall. Eyes flickering over the hallway, he noticed they were alone, all the other students had most likely already gathered in the great hall.

“Nothing. I swear, Cole,” he could hear the desperation in his own voice as his fingertips grazed the wall.

“You seem awfully busy with getting away.”

“Yes. I have something I need to get to,” Cas quickly agreed, eyes pleading.

“What a shame, huh?” Cole snatched his wand, let it fall to the ground with the soft clatter of tree against stone. He could feel Cole’s hands moved up his arms. It made his skin crawl, but as he moved to get away, Cole tightened his grip around his biceps.

“You are not going anywhere,” Cole told him sweetly, not loosening his grip in the slightest.

“Go to hell!” Cas spat, back of his head thumping against the wall behind him. Cole leaned closer as Castiel closed his eyes, preparing him for what was about to happen. It wasn’t the first time since they had broken things off that Cole had tried on something like that.

“Please…” he started begging when Cole’s lips smashed aggressively against his own, the other wizard pushing his entire body against Cas. There was nothing he could do but remain passive. Cole was both taller and stronger than he was, and Castiel wasn’t exactly practiced in casting spells without his wand. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t.

“Cas? What the hell?” a very familiar voice interrupted.

Thank god, Cas was close to sobbing with relief when Cole turned his head, staring at Dean.  
Cas used the moment to push Cole away. He proceeded to grab his wand from the floor, directed the end of it towards Cole. His hands were shaking bad enough that he was unsure if a spell would even hit the other wizard.

“WHAT THE HELL!?” Dean yelled, making Cas turn and stare at him. If he hadn’t known better he would have sworn that Dean looked hurt and betrayed, like Castiel being force-kissed by Cole had some impact on him.

“You can’t just! Cas! For fuck's sake!” Dean continued, opening and closing his hands. He wasn’t carrying his wand.

“I didn’t!” Cas shrieked back, the pieces finally falling into place. Dean had thought he had kissed Cole, that he had wanted it. Why he looked so hurt by it, Castiel did not understand.

“I saw it! You can’t fucking deny what just happened!”

“I didn't want to!” he cried out, pointing his wand towards Cole again. Sparks flew from the tip as the anger and hurt and betrayal manifested. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. He understood what it would have looked like from where Dean stood.

“I didn’t want to,” Cas slowly repeated. “I… You must believe me, Dean. I didn’t want to. I don’t even like him.”

“You liked me plenty!” Cole interrupted, causing both to turn their heads towards him. “You wanted this. I have seen the way you have been longing for a real man while all this bullshit has been going on!” He gestured vaguely between Dean and Castiel.

“I did not! I wanted you back then, yes, but that was before I learned what a fucked-up douchebag you are! Go to fucking hell, Cole!” Castiel yelled, once again raising his wand in a threatening motion. Cole backed up a few steps.

“He forced you?” Dean asked from somewhere behind Castiel, voice strained like he had difficulty breathing.

“Yes,” he found himself confirming, wand still pointed in Cole’s direction, the sudden thunderclap making it hard to hear what he said. But apparently, Dean got it, he suddenly lunged himself at Cole, yelling something that another thunderclap overpowered.

“YOU FUCKER!” Dean screamed, taking Cole’s wand to throw it down the hall. His entire posture reeked of anger and hate.“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM EVER AGAIN!” 

Cas saw how Dean lifted his wand, anger and hate makes his green eyes electric even in the limited light. Another thunderclap overpowered whatever spell he was about to use, but the flames licking Cole’s clothing left no doubt. 

“DEAN!” Castiel yelled, trying to get the Gryffindor to stop. Cole deserved it, no doubt there, but he wasn’t worth the punishment Dean would earn himself. He risked his whole career if he got noted for it. 

“DEAN!” he tried again, watching as Cole screamed while trying to stop the fire. Cas jumped forward, grabbing Dean’s arm. Dean turned around, eyes wild with anger. Cas more sensed that saw something moving towards him. Pain bloomed through Castiel’s head. Things went black for a moment.

Green eyes wide with fear stared at him when he came to himself just mere seconds after. Then Dean bolted away, running like his life depended on it. Cole was breathing unevenly when Castiel got to his feet, still dizzy from the blow to his head. 

“DEAN!” he yelled for the third time, hoping that Dean’s running figure would somehow come to a halt with that. Dean did not stop.

Castiel ran after him.

 

Dean was on his knees when Cas finally caught up, the rain soaking through their clothes. He didn’t react when Cas sat down beside him. Didn’t do a thing when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Dean, please look at me,” Cas pleaded. He could feel Dean shaking. Why had he chosen to run out into the rain when he was already freezing that badly?

The rain hammered down on and around them, drowning out almost all noise. It took him too long to realize that Dean wasn’t shaking from cold.

Not sure, not caring if he overstepped boundaries, he moved Dean into an uncomfortable hug. Instead of trying to coax Dean into talking or moving out from the rain, he just continued to hold him. Dean’s shaking intensified, his entire body moving with the sobs. But he didn’t push Castiel away. He didn’t do a thing to get out of the embrace.

“I am sorry,” Dean whispered hoarsely, somewhere close to Castiel’s ear.

“Don’t be.”

“I hit you.”

“You didn’t mean to.”

“You should go,” the Gryffindor told him, sounding like his world would shatter if Castiel did.

“I am staying,” Cas emphasized his words with a possessive squeeze, water dripping down his face from his soaked hair.

“Don’t,” Dean tried to push him away, but he didn’t put up a fight, not really. “Get away. Go. Go!” Dean tried, his voice shrieking and breaking as Castiel continued to hold him close.

“Please go!” he cried out, words turning into a hysterical sobbing. Dean stopped trying to push him away.

 

[ ](https://image.ibb.co/jMSWUv/Rain.jpg)

‘Please, go, leave’ was repeated between sobs and racked breathing as Cas tried to calm him. Dean was clinging him like he was the only thing keeping him above water.

“I can’t lose you too,” Dean mumbled against his collarbone, voice somewhat steady. How long they had been sitting out in the pouring rain, Castiel had no idea.

“You are not going to,” he simply stated, running his hand over Dean’s wet hair, down his neck and back. Somewhere along the line, they had moved so that Cas had his back placed against the wall, legs spread so that Dean could curl up against his front.

“Yeah, I am,” Dean sighed, still talking low enough that it was hard to hear over the rain. “And I can’t.”

“What is scaring you so?”

“You leaving. Dying. I don’t know, Cas. I just… I have come to care too much for you. I don’t like that one bit.” Dean admitted, still refusing to move so that Cas could look at him.

“Is it because of what happened with your parents?”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I have plenty of time, Dean. As I said, I am not going anywhere,” he promised, a shiver running down his spine with the cold. They would probably get sick, but he couldn’t find it in him to care or to break the embrace to get inside.

“My dad didn’t just go after her killers. He was obsessed…” Dean started his tale, moving so he sat more comfortably against Castiel. “He went off the grid, completely nuts with it. He had me and Sammy. We were just kids, you know? At first, he dragged us around the country, trying to raise us along with hunting down her killer. But social service – yes, the Muggle one, got informed that a strangely acting man was leaving two kids alone for prolonged periods of time in motel rooms. I was five or six, back then. I had to take care of Sammy, had to keep him happy and fed. Dad wasn’t happy that the social services kept bugging us. He wasn’t happy at all.” Something in Dean’s voice changed grimly. “He never realized what it did to us. Sam grew, Sam started asking questions about all sorts of things that I couldn’t answer. He pissed off dad so badly when he kept asking. They fought a lot, but it never got physical between the two of them.” The silence was loaded for a moment before Dean continued.

“I have seen what losing a soulmate can do to a man first-hand. I remember my dad vaguely before mom died. I remember him smiling, laughing. Playing with me. He didn’t do that afterward. It was like… It was like someone had taken away everything worth living for, only leaving this empty shell craving revenge more than it desired to stay alive. When the war came over us, I begged him not to go. He left us with a friend of his. Never promised that he would get back. I think he wanted to die, once her killer was dead. Sammy and I, we were never enough to keep on living without mom.” 

The unsaid ‘I will never be good enough’ hung in the air between them.

Castiel knew better than to tell Dean that he was good enough. Telling him would never be enough. As things were, Dean wouldn’t believe him. Maybe with time. Castiel chose not to tell Dean about his dad leaving, how strained things had been at home. That was a talk for another time. But he wanted to, wanted to let Dean know that he wasn’t entirely alone.  
They sat in the pouring rain for way too long, holding one another close. No matter what Castiel said or did, Dean’s fear of becoming his father would never disappear. Cas wasn’t even sure he thought a relationship would be worth it if he risked going mad like Dean described his father doing. Just the superficial things Dean had told him about his childhood was enough to make his heart clench in sympathy, aching to make things better. Somewhere along the lines, he had come to care about Dean.

“We should get in,” Dean said. The first few times Cas had shaken it off and dismissed it and Dean had agreed to not move. But this time he couldn’t, teeth clattering in his mouth. Sitting between the walls they weren’t affected by the wind, but the pouring rain was more than enough to leave him freezing. Having Dean close and sharing body heat had done a lot, being worried had allowed him not to care for a few moments.

“I am fine,” he got out between clattering teeth.

“And you call me stubborn,” Dean sighed, getting to his feet. Castiel grabbed his outstretched hand, letting Dean help him up.

“You are.”

Dean shrugged, indifferent to the matter. “I got you good.” There was worry in his eyes as they locked on Castiel’s jaw. Cas gently pushed his fingertips against the tender flesh before nodding.

“You did indeed,” he agreed. The rain had probably been good for at the least that, he figured.  
“Can I ask you something, before we go?”

“Sure,” Dean agreed with another shrug.

“Why were you so mad when you first encountered us?” Cas had been left to wonder about a lot while Dean had cried, and his thoughts had kept returning to that moment.

Dean looked away, jaw locking. Castiel wasn’t sure if he intended to answer at all. If not, he could live without an answer. Cas could understand Dean’s protectiveness, they were friends, right? He would have been equally angry if someone had assaulted Dean the way Cole had assaulted him. But what didn’t add up was that Dean had yelled accusing at him, almost like he had felt betrayed.

“I am sorry, Cas. I overstepped my boundaries.” Dean ran a hand through his wet hair. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”

“Doesn’t really answer my question, does it?” Castiel frowned.

“I care, okay?” Dean sounded as if it was physically painful for him to admit. “I know I’m not supposed to, having said I want nothing but friendship. But I got mad, seeing the two of you. Like whatever this is, whatever is going on between us doesn’t mean a thing to you.”

“I haven’t yelled at you for being with Lisa.”

“There is nothing between Lisa and me,” Dean answered. “She broke things off with me when it became known that the two of us are soulmates.”

“I am sorry,” Cas answered automatically. He didn’t feel sorry at all.

“Don’t be. Things were weird and complicated between the two of us before that came into the picture. Being friends with her is actually a lot easier than trying to give her something I can’t.”

 

Charlie punched both him and Dean for disappearing on her. She didn’t ask why Castiel had a massive bruise forming on his jaw or why they both were soaked to the bone. She just looked at them, sighed, rolled her eyes and proceeded to drag them to the kitchens for drying in front of the massive cooking fires and get freshly made hot chocolate.


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel would lie if he had said that he hadn’t been nervous about their exams. After all, they would determine whether he would be able to pursue his career choice as a healer. His professors weren’t worried on his behalf, but he was. He couldn’t help it. After all, it was not their career, their life that was on the line. It was his. Of course, they would tell him that he was doing well and had nothing to worry about..

Castiel fretted a lot about his parchments and homework. Some nights he stayed up studying rather than sleeping, nervous that he wouldn’t pass if he didn’t put in all the time he had. That usually resulted in random naps, especially during study-sessions after classes. After he had woken with half his parchment printed on his face because he had fallen asleep before the ink was dry, he tried to sleep at night even when stressed out. The school nurse even provided him with some light sleeping potion, ensuring sleep until his body had re-adjusted to sleeping at the times it was supposed to.

Study-sessions often started to turn out a two-person thing. Charlie seemed to prefer using more and more time with Dorothy. Cas knew that she had grown quite fond of the other girl, and to him, it only seemed natural that they used more time together. That did, however, leave him with more time together with Dean. Occasionally they were joined by Sam, but he stuck to his classmates most of the time.

Before the episode in the rain, he would have viewed things differently. But getting to know Dean, getting to understand him helped things out. Dean had turned out not to be as big of an asshole as Cas had first thought. The bullying had come from a place of insecurities. The mean comments about his sexuality from Dean fearing everyone’s reaction if he was open about his own. Dean had told Cas outright that he had known he was attracted to wizards too in a quiet moment just the two of them. From the way Dean talked about it, Castiel got the impression that someone close to him had made sure he knew from an early age, that a real wizard would never settle with someone of his own gender.   
The seeking out Cas as a victim for pranks from a genuine desire to be near him. The last part Dean never admitted to, of course, but Castiel was perfectly capable of reading between the lines. Especially with help from Charlie.

 

Dean closed his book with a loud smack, directing his gaze to Castiel.

“Was it the first time that Cole treated you like that?” he asked like it had been something he had wondered for quite a while.

Castiel shook his head softly. “Far from,” he admitted.

“Idiot,” Dean muttered under his breath, looking down at the book like he did not know what else to say.

“Yeah,” Cas found himself agreeing. He had no idea if Dean thought him or Cole to be the idiot. 

“Always like that?”

“Like what?” Cas asked.

“Like… Taking your wand, pushing you against the wall, kissing you against your will?”

“Mostly,” he sighed.

“But not always?” Dean’s tone had shifted to something more insisting. Why he cared so much Castiel still couldn’t grasp.

“No, not always. Sometimes it is less, sometimes it is more. It is always about control,” Cas tried to explain.

“More?”

“Yes.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really, but I suppose…” Cas closed his eyes, breathing in heavily for a moment. “I suppose it is alright that you know, everything considered.” He gestured towards Dean and then himself as to imply their bond. It was there, somehow flickering weekly like a flame about to go out. It was far from the first time he had noticed it. It was clearer when they were physically close or whenever Dean felt something strongly. Dean’s emotions in the rain had somehow been his too, the desire to do something about it overwhelming. Before that, it had barely been anything, so weak that Cas often had figured it to be something out of his imagination.

Maybe the bond explained why Dean had found him when Cole assaulted him. Maybe Dean had felt his distress, the way he had felt Dean’s shortly after.

Castiel wondered if Dean felt anything that moment.

“It was great between us, back when both of us did it out of some sort of mutual respect and desire. I suppose I always liked him better than he liked me, but being the weird kid… Well, just having the attention of someone who didn’t want to hurt me was overwhelming, to be honest. Cole was never a boyfriend, but I was smitten and so, so in love with him. He could treat me whatever way he pleased, and I didn’t mind. Didn’t do anything to stop him until it became clear that he wasn’t with me because of me, but because I allowed him to treat me so horribly. He was always in control, our relationship dynamic was so badly tilted… I saw him with girls, because as he said; ‘he had a reputation to uphold’. I didn’t. I was no-one, had no-one. Gabriel didn’t know about Cole because Cole insisted that Gabe hated him and that it would ruin everything. Looking back, I suspect that if I had told Gabriel about it, he would have told me to end it.” 

Castiel wasn’t putting any emotions into what he told. His voice sounded dead, even to him, like he was listening to someone else reading what had happened out loud.  
“Cole got more insistent towards the end of it. He wanted more, he wanted me. He told me he cared about me, wanted to make things good. I told him I wasn’t ready. That I would be if he gave me time.He didn’t care. It was pure luck that he didn’t get around to rape me, that things were interrupted when they were. But he likes to remind me that it was luck and nothing else.”

“So that is what I disturbed? His pissing of territory like you are something to be claimed or won?” Dean asked, disbelieving.

“You could say that, yes.”

“Fuck. I should have spelled him with something nastier.”

“I am glad you didn’t,” Cas said. “If you had, I am pretty sure it would have consequences.”

“And detention isn’t bad enough?”

“Apparently not if you regret not doing worse.”

“He is a fucking bastard, Cas!” argued Dean. 

“I am not saying he isn’t.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “But I do not want to see you punished because of him. He is not worth it, Dean.”

Dean made a grumpy noise which Castiel figured was some sort of an agreement. He wouldn’t be surprised if Cole ended up with a tail, frog-skin or a very aggressive rash spelling something horrible either. If it could not be tied to Dean, Cas didn’t care. He knew how much the Auror career meant for Dean, and he didn’t want to see his friend ruin his future.

 

It took Dean a few days to ask for more information. Castiel had expected it, given Dean’s (even more so than usual) restless behavior and gazes.

Maybe it was how calm Castiel had seemed about it. Maybe it was that he had chosen to tell Dean.

“Doesn’t it affect you, knowing that he is walking around unpunished for what he did?” Dean asked one afternoon where Charlie had once again made herself scarce, probably with Dorothy. Cas wondered if anyone but him and Dean had noticed how much time the two girls spent together.

It took Castiel quite a while to figure out an answer to that. He was quiet for so long that Dean seemed to give up on getting an answer out of him.

“Well, yes it does. Had I any evidence of his actions, I would do something about it. But to be honest, I fear that the consequences of that would be a lot worse for me. Could you imagine the rumor? He was the one to spread it in the first place, about me being gay. Doesn’t matter that it was true, I wasn’t ready to come out. Now it would be how I try to get his attention by telling everyone that he touched me against my will. ‘Like he isn’t strong enough to just push me away’, he would say. ‘Like he isn’t the best wizard of us’.” Cas ran a hand through his already unruly, dark hair. It had grown a tad too long for his liking, but he wasn’t desperate enough to try and cut it himself.

“Maybe the teachers would believe me if I showed them the memories. Maybe they would punish him somehow, I don’t know what can be done. I am just unsure if it would be worth it,” he continued. “But it does affect me. I don’t like walking around alone or if it is unlikely that someone else would pass in case something happens. I am scared that this,” he gestured between them, “will be something affected by that. I don’t know yet, I haven’t been with anyone since. But it seems quite possible.”

Dean looked baffled as if he hadn’t expected the level of honesty from Castiel.

 

Somehow Castiel found the courage to tell Charlie about Cole’s abuse as well. She agreed that Dean should have hit harder. Cas would honestly not be surprised of Charlie and Dean teamed up to punish Cole somehow.

However, he did not mention it to their teachers, because he was sure that no one would lift a hand to do a thing without further evidence. Maybe his view on it was colored by the way Muggle girls were treated in cases of rape. After all, muggles did not have the option of reviewing memories of others, using those as evidence. As he had told Dean, it didn’t matter that the teachers believed him. And unless Cole was banished from the school, it wouldn’t matter. It was likely Cole would attack him again if he talked.

Why Castiel talking about the abuse he had suffered made Dean seem more at ease with him, he had no idea. But he could tell that Dean relaxed just a tad more in his company, that their conversations were more lively and easy flowing.

Dean even started to seek out his company in more private matters than for studying in classrooms.

“Feel like stargazing with me?” asked Dean one evening with a wink.

Baffled, Castiel could do nothing but stare at him. His insides twisted painfully in anticipation. Was that Dean’s way of asking him out?

Dean barked out a warm laugh, seeing Castiel’s confusion.

“I have an astronomy-paper due to next week,” he explained.

“Oh. Yes. Me too,” Cas nodded along. He didn’t feel like someone had just punched him in the gut.

“And as it does require observations, I have gotten us a permission to be out after curfew so we can observe the stars.”

Castiel smiled and agreed to meet in the astronomy tower later that evening.

 

Telescope tugged underneath his arm, Castiel walked through the dark halls of Hogwarts. It was late and he hoped he wouldn’t meet any teachers before he stumbled across Dean. Even though their teacher in astronomy would agree that he had given the two permissions to stargaze, Castiel had no desire to wake up the centaur in the middle of the night to get that confirmed.

Castiel did not stumble across any teachers before meeting up with Dean. Instead of his wizarding robes, Dean was wearing loose jeans and a thick sweater underneath a leather jacket. His green eyes glinted mischievously in the light from the torches on the wall.

“I had no idea you owned Muggle clothes,” Cas told him as they started to climb the steep staircase leading to the top of the tower.

“I do. And I figured I would be able to keep warm better wearing this than my every-day robes,” Dean answered, slightly out of breath.

Nodding, he agreed, feeling grateful that he too was wearing a pair of sturdy jeans along with a sweater and a trench coat. It was a little too big on him, but he could keep nice and warm if it wouldn’t rain.

The first half an hour or so was used for the intended purpose of studying the stars. They tried comparing their notes in the dark, but Castiel was unable to read Dean’s scribbles. With a grin, Dean made a small, magical flame to keep them warm and provide a tiny light.

They were alone at the top of the astronomy tower with the rest of the castle sleeping beneath them. Castiel was glad that he was sitting down on the stone. Even though he knew damned well that it wasn’t a date, he couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling making his knees weak and his heart beat twice the rate it usually did.

Dean turned his head from the paper he had just finished reading, grinning at him.

“Have I ever told you about Sammy’s first tour on a broom?” he asked, winking.

“No, I am pretty sure you haven’t,” Cas said. “And that he will hate you for doing so.”

“Even more reason to do so!” stated Dean, joy in his voice as he started the story: “Sammy always refused to ride a broom back when we were kids. I had tried one before mom died, you know, the tiny ones made for kids that can go up yay high?” Dean lifted a hand above the ground to emphasize.

“Either way, Sam didn’t get a chance to ride a broom often after that. Bobby’s yard wasn’t as secluded as the ideal would be, so he didn’t really allow much flying. Risking muggles seeing us and all. Sammy was kinda dangly when he started school.” Castiel could easily recall the dangly kid Sam had once been in his mind. “And well, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see him fly the first time. So instead of going to my class, I snuck out to see Sam’s first encounter with a flying broom,” Dean started to chuckle. “Oh god Cas, it was a sight for sore eyes. He looked so misplaced and so confused on the quidditch field, and when he tried mounting the broom he almost fell over it. I laughed so hard that I was almost caught right there. I swear, I have never seen the kid more anxious than when Madam Hooch blew her whistle, signaling for set-off. He managed to set off so hard that his broom went directly vertical and he fell back. I got a detention, but damn, it was worth it.”

Castiel couldn’t help but chuckle too, easily imagining Sam looking as awkward as Dean had described him. Cas knew Dean had played quite a lot of Quidditch in his earlier years of Hogwarts, something that had made him even more popular, but he had stopped with the team a year before. He still practiced, was still used as a backup, but was no longer actively playing.

“You used to play Quidditch too, right?” Cas asked.

“Yeah,” came softly from Dean.

“Why did you stop?”

Dean swallowed. “I didn’t enjoy it, not really. Dad had… when we were kids, he had told us a lot about Quidditch, how he had used to play, how proud he would be if we made it into the house teams.” Even in the weak light, Castiel could see the frown tugging Dean’s face.

“So… I played to make him happy, to have something to tell him in the letters for quite some time. I just realized how much stress it added to my life, how much more important my career would be if I got the grades necessary. Dad told me he was proud of me making the grown-up decision.”

The conversation faded between them, replaced by a comfortable silence.

Slowly Castiel turned his head. Dean looked so relaxed and happy beside him. It would be easy to grab his hand, to stroke his hair. But Castiel didn’t, fearing Dean’s reaction if he chose to engage in such actions. Dean had been friendlier towards him, more protective. That didn’t mean he desired Castiel’s touch. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Cas turned his gaze to the stars decorating the sky. It was beautiful, breathtaking. He looked at Dean again, the freckles speckling his face like the stars were shattered over the night sky. So random, yet with some degree of order.

Dean chose that moment to turn his head as well, meeting Castiel’s eyes. How long they lay on the top of the astronomy tower, staring at one another, he had no idea.


	11. Chapter 11

It was a beautiful day just after their last written exam when Dean agreed to go on their first date. Castiel had been thrilled. After their stargazing, he had found it harder to keep things between him and Dean strictly platonic. There had been more gentle, random touches. There had been more hugs and so many lingering gazes that Sam had teased them with it.  
As it turned out, Castiel’s gender had never really been an issue with Dean, nor his sexuality. Contrary to widely held belief of the oldest Winchester being straight as a ruler, Dean had always identified as more of an equal opportunity kind of guy. In secret, that was.

Before the date, Dean had made sure that they agreed on not necessarily becoming more than friends because of it. Friends could go on platonic dates and be fine with one another. Castiel had used quite a lot of time reassuring Dean that unless they wanted things to change with their date, they wouldn’t. He was just eager to test the waters, figuring out if whatever it was between him and Dean could work out.

They had agreed that Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop would be a stretch for them both. The tea shop was cozy enough – Dean had been there once with Lisa – but it was mainly happily stupidly in love couples going there. It would make everyone turn their heads, make them question the change in Dean and Castiel’s relationship before they even knew if they wanted there to be one. Instead, they headed for Three Broomsticks Inn for Butterbeer, taking things wherever they felt like going.

 

“You feeling up for the oral exams?” Dean asked as they walked side by side towards Three Broomsticks Inn.

“You want to talk about exams?” Castiel asked disbelievingly. Dean usually hated exam talk.

“Sure. I know you want to, anyway,” Dean teased with a grin.

“Well, they are going to determine if I pass my classes at N.E.W.T. level, like I want to,” Cas answered. “But not today. Today I want to talk about something else.”

“Like you can talk about anything but school,” Dean laughed, “I challenge you.”

“So what will my reward be if I do not talk about school or exams the entire date?” he asked, smiling like an idiot as well.

“What do you want?”

“Is anything game?”

“Depends on how well this goes,” Dean answered with a wink, holding the door to Three Broomsticks Inn. “Ladies first,” he remarked as Cas stepped through.

Madam Rosmerta, the bartender, nodded at them as they stepped in. It was still early in the day so they were able to find a pretty secluded table, perfect for having slightly more private conversations or, in this case, going on a date without everyone noticing.

Both ordered butterbeer, agreeing that having something cold to drink seemed like a good idea.

“It tastes pretty good warm too,” Dean told him.

“Mhm,” Cas agreed around his second sip. “I have tried it hot too.”

For a few moments, both kept quiet, preferring to drink their beers while watching the other students interact. No one seemed to care about them, no one send extra glances their way.

“Why did you agree to go on a date with me?” Castiel asked after he had looked around once again, ensuring that no one was listening in on their conversation.

“Not starting out with the getting-to-know-one-another questions, huh?” Dean smiled towards him. “I figured that it couldn’t hurt. It isn’t like one date will mean that we are forced to be together. It probably won’t even change anything. I felt that you deserved it. You have been more patient with me than I have the right to expect anyone to be.”

“Oh,” Cas answered, then felt his face tug into a wide grin. “I am glad you wanted to.”

“Well, you say so now,” Dean told him with another wink, taking a swig from his butterbeer.

“I know you well enough to be pretty sure this is going to be a successful date, Dean.”

Dean didn’t answer so Castiel had a good time to look at the pink color staining Dean’s cheeks.

 

At no time during their date did Dean ask Castiel why he had chosen to ask him out in the first place. Cas also felt that the question was horribly unnecessary. It was so obvious to everyone around them that he had come to care deeply for Dean with knowing him better. Charlie assured him that it was clear as day that Dean felt the same, but Cas had yet to see that.  
Dean seemed relaxed and the atmosphere was too. The talk flowed easily between them, albeit Castiel more than once had to stop himself from talking about exams. Not knowing if he grades needed filled a lot in his head, and he knew that Dean felt the same.

Dean was the perfect date, laughing whenever Castiel told him something funny about Gabriel, telling stories of his own with the purpose of making Cas smile as well. His stomach muscles would be sore the following day from laughing so badly.

Maybe there was something to the whole soulmate thing. Dean made him feel at ease, made him feel like he belonged somewhere.

 

Another group of students walked into the inn. Dean tensed for a moment, but no one seemed to pay them any attention. Their friendship were the news of yesterday, no one really cared any longer.

Castiel was just about to order their third pint of butterbeer when Dean paled visibly with the door chiming, announcing that another customer or group entered the Inn. Castiel turned his head, watching the man entering. He looked vaguely familiar like someone Cas had once met or heard about. The man kept standing just inside the Inn, looking around as if he searched for someone.

Then his eyes landed on Dean and something in his expression darkened.

The man walked to their table with a look Castiel found difficult to read. He looked angry, disappointed. He was limping slightly and had the eyes of someone who had stared death in the eyes and won.

“Dean,” the man said, voice loathed. Castiel was glad that no one had ever looked at him like that.

“Sir,” Dean answered, back straight but expression as he were a soldier being scolded by his general.

“I thought I had taught you better, boy.”

“Dad…” Dean’s voice was pleading, his green eyes flickering from the man, his dad, and Castiel. Castiel was left utterly confused because from what Dean had told him, his father had died in the Wizarding Wars. For a moment, he was at a loss, then remembered that Dean had mentioned his father was named John. Apparently, he wasn’t as dead as Dean had wanted him to believe.

“No ‘dad’ here. You have acted irresponsibly. I am utterly disgusted by your behavior!” John sneered coldly. “Did you really think I wouldn’t hear about it? I am still your parent, no matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise.”

Dean looked like he would prefer sleeping with a dragon over staying there.

The man continued: “You are pathetic. Getting yourself a soulmate!” Dean’s eyes widened in shock. “Yes, of course, I learned that too, boy! Get yourself together. I told you not to engage in that crap. Told you to avoid it at all costs. And what do you do?” He turned his eyes to Castiel during that sentence, staring at him with a gaze loaded with disgust.

“You get yourself a soulmate. And not even a nice girl like I told you to. No, of course, you had to turn yourself into an even bigger disappointment and turn out to be a fucking fairy.”

Knowing Dean as well as he did, Cas could see how hard the words hit him. John could just as well have hit him the way Dean crumbled.

“Sir, I have to ask you to leave,” Madam Rosmerta interrupted. Her words were respectful, her stance was not. She looked like she was ready to smack down Dean’s father with a broom if needed.

“I am not leaving without my son!” John stated.

“Yes, you are sir.”

“I. AM. NOT. LEAVING!” he yelled, loud enough to attract the attention of all guests at the Inn.

Castiel swallowed when Dean’s father moved closer towards them. His entire body screamed for him to run away. Rosmerta backed to the bar, keeping her eyes on them. Calling for help outside of the inn, Castiel figured. She couldn’t do much against a large man like Dean’s father.

“Who are you, boy?” John asked, hovering over Castiel, staring him down. His upper lip was curled up, nose crinkled in disgust.

“Castiel,” Cas mumbled, trying to lean as far away from his chair as he could without moving.

“Surname?” it wasn’t a question. He was demanding it.

“Novak.”

“I don’t know that name!” John stated, staring down his nose at Cas with eyes small from distrust.

“I am muggle-born.”

That made John turn towards Dean with a look as if he were ready to give up on his oldest son. “Is he at the least in Gryffindor then?”

Dean’s silence was more than enough to answer that question.

“Get up, kid,” John ordered. To his horror, Castiel could only watch as Dean did as told. Dean’s posture was hunched. His breathing was shallow and superficial at best, his skin deadly pale. Dean was not looking at John or at Castiel, eyes darting around the room.

“Is this what you want to bring home? A muggle-born boy not even from your own house?”   
The words were loaded. Dean didn’t answer.

“Answer me, Dean!” John demanded, taking a step forward, gripping Dean around the upper arm.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t be cheeky, boy. Answer my question.”

“I don’t know, sir.” Dean ducked his head when John’s free hand moved upwards in an involuntary movement.

“ANSWER ME!”

Dean still refused to look at his father, his breathing intensifying as if he were on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Yes, sir. Yes. He is,” Dean rambled off, shaking, as John stepped closer. Unshed tears made his green eyes shining.

“Let him go, please!” Cas heard himself begging.

“Are you talking to me?” John whirled around, anger written all over his face. “You have the nerve to demand that from me? He is my kid, you stupid boy. I can damned well do with him what I want!” As if to prove his point he started moving, hand still solidly placed around Dean’s upper arm. Dean moved with him, passively.

“He is of age!” Cas informed John coldly. “He can do what he wants.”

“Do you listen to this nonsense, Dean? No wonder you think your soulmate is this kid, filling your head with crap like that.”

Dean breathed in, a wheezing, unhealthy sound. Castiel’s heart clenched with a desire to do something, to step between them. But if he did so, did he risk losing Dean? Upsetting John more seemed like a bad idea.

“Let me go, Dad,” Dean stated. Had there been the previous amount of noise in the inn, no one would have heard him. But everyone was quiet, following the episode.

“Let you go? So you can continue with your unhealthy shit? I think not. You are coming with me right now!” John stated, hand tightening visibly around Dean’s arm. “This place obviously has screwed with your priorities. I can barely recognize you now.”

“You never used to see me happy,” Dean whispered.

“And you are happy now?” John laughed coldly. “Yeah, sure. Leave it to you to run out and get yourself a fucking soulmate, depending on him for your happiness. What have you done with my kid, loser?”

Dean looked up at his father, eyes pleading, desperate with the need of his dad’s approval. It was something he would never get, Cas realized. The things John expected from his oldest child was unrealistic at best, abusive at worst.

“You are not that stupid, are you? He is going to leave you. He is going to get you killed, destroy your life.”

“Cas is not like that,” Dean protested, but his voice was shaking with uncertainty and fear like John had hit where it really hurt.

John made a sound close to a growl when his free fist connected with Dean’s nose.

“You disrespectful little fucker!” John yelled as Dean stumbled backward, only kept up by the tight grip his father had around his upper arm.

“You do not deserve all I have done for you!” John spat, the fist connecting with Dean’s jaw this time. It was painful to watch how Dean did not lift a finger to defend himself, how he just let the abuse happen.

“Please stop!” Cas yelled again, moving towards them, hoping to make John stop. He didn’t care about Dean’s dignity or if John hit him instead, not anymore. John didn’t even turn his head when he pushed Castiel away, didn’t look when Cas fell into a table.

Castiel couldn’t look away when John hit his oldest son again. He wanted to step in between, to shield Dean somehow, but his legs refused to cooperate and his wand hung useless beside him, arms too heavy to lift.

“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” was yelled along with the Inn-door opening. John fell, arms and legs snapping together. Gabriel stood in the door, wand raised and pointed towards where John had been standing just a second ago.

Castiel was grateful as his brother helped him back on his feet. The blow to his lower back had been a lot more painful than he had thought possible. He hurried towards Dean who stood staring at his father, blood running down over his lower face from a nose that seemed to be broken.

Gabriel was looking at John with all the disgust in the world.

“I think we better leave him here, let the authorities take over,” Gabe said, nodding towards Madam Rosmerta. “Good thing you asked me for help.”

She nodded in agreement.

“I was pretty sure that he would react if I tried on anything, and honestly, I didn’t want him to get more violent if I could help it. I will call this in.” Rosmerta moved away again, probably to send the message.

“Where did you come from?” Cas asked his brother while trying to ensure that Dean was alright.

“The candy shop. I have been considering buying it for a while,” he shrugged. “I bought it last week, anyway, and was just starting to set things up in there. Rosmerta has been helping me out.”

“You bought the candy shop?”

“Surprise!” Gabriel grinned a little too happy and a little too wide before turning his honey-gold eyes towards Dean.

“I must say that I had not anticipated Dean being the one you wrote about,” Gabe said with a short nod. He looked torn between making a joke to get Dean to relax and realizing that a joke easily could make things worse as well.

Castiel ran a hand through his dark hair. “To be perfectly honest, neither had I.”

John looked furious, but the total body-lock effectively prevented him from saying or doing anything. It was tempting to step on John or kick him while he was unable to defend himself.  
Cas looked over at Dean. His green eyes were still wide, blood running down his lower face. He hadn’t moved to do anything about it, gaze flickering down to John and up at Gabriel and Castiel.

“You okay, kiddo?” Gabriel asked, voice softer than Castiel had heard it in years.

Dean nodded. It was too frantic of a movement, too stiff for anyone to be fooled by him. Cas stepped over John, inching himself closer towards Dean. Dean had more than enough time to move away if he didn’t want Cas nearby. He flinched when Cas held the paper against his bleeding nose but seemed apologetic for doing so. Castiel didn’t hold it against him, instead, he helped Dean getting somewhat cleaned up.

 

The authorities arrived shortly after, introducing themselves as head wizard Victor Henriksen and Donna Hanscum. Other wizards wearing the same kind of uniform stood behind the two head wizards, backs straight. Castiel didn’t pay them much attention and if they were introduced, he didn’t listen.

John was given back his mobility just to be put in slacks and taken away by head wizard Hanscum and one of the other unnamed wizards.Head wizard Henriksen stayed along with yet another helper to get their statements. He seemed fierce but somewhat protective. Castiel felt safe around him, and he could sense that Dean did too. Henriksen ordered one of his subordinates to get names and statements from everyone in the pub.

During those, Dean admitted that it was far from the first time that John had acted like that. Violence had apparently been a recurring event during Dean’s childhood.

Henriksen shook his head softly while Dean talked. It was clear that he had never wanted something like that to happen to any kid. Castiel kept by Dean’s side, holding his hand. Dean allowed the contact.

“So let me get this straight…” Victor peeked down at the notepad where he had noted the most significant things Dean had told. “You dad chose to appear at this very public place and hit you because you have a soulmate?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Dean. The muscles around his jaws kept twitching.

Henriksen shook his head again, obviously not understanding the reasoning behind that. Castiel just felt glad that Henriksen was not a bigoted idiot. As far as he was concerned, those existed within the magic law enforcement as well.

“Well, that is all for now,” Henriksen remarked, standing. “You will hear from us. Your father's actions won’t go unpunished.”

And with that, Henriksen and the two remaining unnamed wizards apparated.

 

Castiel held Dean’s hand as they walked back to the castle, afraid that the other wizard would disappear on him or break if he let go.

Sam had heard the rumors and was worried out of his skin, pale and eyes red-rimmed. Cas wondered how fast the word traveled in the castle. Knowing Dean needed to be with his brother, Castiel retreated.


	12. Chapter 12

The witnessing in court would be the first he had seen of Dean since their last exam. It was not something Castiel looked forward to, but it there wasn’t a choice. He wanted John behind bars, to make sure that he could never lay a hand on Dean again.

Dean had talked to him after the assault in the Three Brooms Inn, but both had been too focused on their exams to really dwell on emotional stuff like that. Their talks had been superficial at best, their relationship something not named. It wasn’t that there was anything, either, but it was clear to both of them that things had changed after John’s assault. It was just… neither really knew exactly what that meant. The fragile trust that had been building between them since Castiel first started teaching Dean had intensified with it. It also became clear to Cas that Dean was embarrassed as well. At first, Castiel had not been sure why, but he later learned that Dean had never meant for him to witness such a humiliating situation. Dean was ashamed; his reaction (“I didn’t fucking do a thing Cas! I let him treat me that way”) in the inn hadn’t been what he had wanted it to be. If anything Dean felt that he should have stood up and told his dad to get out of the inn, out of his life and let his soulmate be.

No matter how often Castiel assured him that he didn’t blame Dean for his reaction, Dean kept looking like he didn’t believe Cas.

 

Castiel was wearing a new set of finer robes. Gabriel had insisted on taking him shopping for the sake of looking like a grown up rather than a just-out-of-school-boy. Trying to protest had resulted in nothing. He had to admit that it looked rather good, even if it did feel a little unnecessary. With all the witnesses against John, it wasn’t like his appearance was going to make the decision anyway. Several eye-witness accounts would be more than enough, especially considered that John had been convicted before.

Dean had admitted to lying as of John’s whereabouts during one of their talks. His dad had not been six feet under as Dean had said up until John stood in the Inn, but Castiel could see why Dean had chosen to lie. Sam told him that John had been arrested before Dean started school. What for, Castiel still didn’t know. He could have asked Dean, but everything considered he figured that his green-eyed friend would tell him himself when the time was right.

 

Castiel threw himself a last look in the mirror before walking out of his room, Gabriel standing ready with him. Their chimney was not put up with the Floo network, so rather than taking that route, they rode the train towards the Ministry of Magic. Gabriel had been there before, he knew the way.

“Stop fidgeting, Cassie,” Gabe remarked when Castiel for God knew what time started to chew on his nails. Before that, it had been his lips, before that the skin around his fingertips.  
Cas made a noncommittal sound.

“It is not going to make the train go any faster,” sighed Gabe. Though his voice was annoyed his eyes remained soft. “It is going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” Castiel grumbled back, giving his nails a hard stare. They were clipped short enough that he couldn’t bite them. 

Gabriel shrugged, face changing into something teasing; “at the least, you will see Dean-o again.”

Castiel glared at him hard enough for Gabriel to shut up. Seeing Dean was the explanation behind his restlessness.

“Did you know that John has been convicted before?” Castiel broke the silence.

“Yes,” Gabriel nodded.

“What for?”

For a moment, Gabriel just looked at him. “Murder and treason,” he answered. The words came slowly like his big brother was in doubt whether to tell him.

Cas gasped. John was an abusive asshole as far as he was concerned, but there was quite a step from being a bad father and to straight up kill someone.

“You know why?” he asked, not sure he necessarily wanted the answer. For all he knew, John could have straight up murdered someone for the joy of it.

“No. But it may come up during today’s trial,” Gabe said with another shrug. “Must have been pretty bad for him to be imprisoned for that long.”

“Yeah,” agreed Castiel, blue eyes looking at anything except his brother. It occurred to him that he knew very little about Dean and his personal life. Most of his knowledge had been based on observation, almost nothing had Dean told him. It wasn’t that he expected Dean to pour out his entire heart towards Cas just because of the soulmate-bond, but it would be nice getting to know him just a little better. It would make it so much easier to decide if they should continue to keep in contact or not.

 

Seeing Dean again, he almost made that decision standing in the great hall at the ministry of magic. It was difficult to imagine not talking to Dean again. Soft noises of water running were coming from a decorated fountain.

The pull towards Dean had never been as insistent, as physically dragging as he felt it that moment. It was like someone had a string tied around his chest. Even without looking at Dean, Castiel could feel the distress his soulmate was in. Instead of doing what he wanted (sprinting towards Dean and hug the life out of him) Castiel moved cautiously. Maybe Dean felt the pull as well. Maybe he didn’t. Cas had no idea. Dean turned around, green eyes directed at Cas.

Dean looked like someone just barely keeping it together. As Castiel moved closer, he could see the straight line of Dean’s mouth, the tenseness in his stance, how his jaw moved ever so slightly.

“Hello, Dean,” he mumbled softly as he moved into Dean’s personal space.

“Hey, yourself.” Dean was obviously aiming for casual and relaxed. He failed.

For a moment both stood, eyes locked on one another. Then Dean stepped in, hugging him in the manly clap-on-the-back manner.

“Good to see you, man.”

“Good to see you too, Dean,” answered Cas softly, letting the hug go on a little longer than strictly necessary. He felt content, being so close to Dean. The distress he had felt earlier had lessened a little as well.

 

Soon enough they were led down to the lower levels of the ministry where the hearing would take place. Castiel and Gabriel along with other witnesses from the Three Brooms Inn were asked to wait in a separate room. A young-looking wizard came to escort them to the courtroom, one by one. Castiel assumed they were dismissed after witnessing or taken to a separate room, as no-one seemed to return to the room.

“We meet at the fountain, if we are not placed in the same room after the hearing,” Gabriel told him. Cas nodded as the door opened.

“Gabriel Novak?” the wizard said, a friendly smile playing around his lips as Gabe got up.  
Castiel was left to himself, not knowing any of the other witnesses. He had no idea why so many were needed, but if it meant getting John convicted he was not going to to complain about the time it took.

A few other witnesses were called in between Gabriel and himself, leaving the room almost empty. Not having anything to distract himself with, it was easy to get lost in thoughts and emotions.

He could feel Dean’s distress, anger, sadness, confusion, the whole shopping list of emotions hitting him through the bond. Some were more powerful than others. If their bond already was strong enough for that, what would it be if they continued? Would it grow? So far neither had done anything actively to strengthen or dismiss the bond, just leaving it be. It seemed that physical distance affected it as well, given that Castiel had barely felt it during the time they had been separated. The tug had been there, sure, but it had not been anywhere nearly as strong as it was in that moment. There had been no emotions spilling over the bond either.

“Castiel Novak?” the young wizard asked, looking at him.

“Yes,” Cas confirmed, getting to his feet in the same moment.

 

The time passing in the courtroom felt like way too short, given that he was potentially changing someone’s life. They merely wanted confirmations one more time, wanted to make sure that everything everyone had said checked out and had consistency. Even though their own head wizards had arrived at the scene, John locked out, Dean bleeding, they still had to make sure. Castiel felt exhausted as he was escorted into another room to await the final parts of the trial; the verdict.

Stumbling over his own feet, he moved into the room the young wizard had appointed him. Gabriel and Dean looked at him, whereas the few other witnesses barely passed him a glance. The front of Gabriel’s shirt was wet, Dean’s eyes red-rimmed and just a little too shiny.  
Cas felt as if he had stumbled across something private, something he should not have witnessed. He stood frozen in the opening of the door until Gabriel waved him over.  
It felt unnecessary to ask Dean if he was okay, there was no reason for why he should be. Slowly, wondering if he even belonged there, Castiel sat down beside Dean. For a moment, they looked awkwardly away from one another, neither knowing what to say, what to do. Castiel fought the urge to grab Dean’s hand and squeeze it reassuringly.

“Why isn’t Sam here?” Castiel broke the silence, softly.

“He was never… John never placed a hand on him,” Dean explained, eyes locked on the floor.

“Oh,” Cas replied.

“I know they have talked with him, so it is possible they considered calling him in. May do too if they decide to continue with the charges of child abuse,” continued Dean, voice numb. “It wasn’t like he saw it all, but Merlin knows that Sam wasn’t a stupid kid. I doubt he ever bought the ‘stole a bike and fell off’ explanation I gave him.”

“It happened a lot?”

Dean laughed, a low, bitter sound. “Damn right it did.”

“I am sorry.”

“You see now why I don’t want this?” Dean gestured between them. “This is what it did to my father. I know it sounds ridiculous, but him acting this way? He is trying to protect me from what he felt.”

“You know, Dean-o, it doesn’t have to be that way,” Gabriel gently broke in, seeing as Castiel was at a loss for words.

“Maybe not,” Dean said but didn’t sound like someone who believed those words.

They kept quiet after that.

Soon enough, all of them were called in to hear the verdict. Wizards and witches were placed along the rounded walls, seating leveled upwards like an auditorium, making it easy for those seated in the back to see what was going on. The witnesses were asked to step over to a side.

“Those in favor of convicting John Edward Winchester for public disturbance, violence and child abuse, raise their hand,” the red-headed wizard started.

Most of the wizards and witches there to judge did.

Castiel felt his heart drop.

It took him a few moments to realize that it wasn’t his emotion. Conflicting emotions hit him like a train as they hurled through Dean. Sorrow, anger, fear. Confusion. Longing. Love and respect. Something Castiel couldn’t quite place. Hate. Contempt.

Even with all the hurt John had put Dean through, he still wasn’t quite able to put his father in jail. Castiel could somewhat understand that. Even if his dad had left, Cas was not quite sure he would be able to cut him out the other way around.

He didn’t think when he reached out, lacing Dean’s fingers with his own to give a reassuring squeeze. Dean turned his head, quite surprised. Slowly his surprise melted into a weak smile.

They parted once the trial was over, no one really wanting to celebrate the verdict. After all, John wasn’t a thoroughly evil man. He had just been in over his head and instead of asking for help, he had tried his very best and failed miserably at it.

Castiel and Dean agreed to keep in contact. Castiel left the Ministry of Magic a whole lot lighter than he had walked in.


	13. Chapter 13

Castiel’s 20th birthday came and passed. Dean sent him a letter by owl. How Dean had known it was his birthday, Castiel had no idea. He sure had never mentioned the date to the younger wizard. The letter itself was short, not especially interesting either. But he wouldn’t have picked Dean to be one to write long, heartfelt letters anyway. Dean was practical, he had learned long ago.

“Dear Castiel.

Congratulations on your birthday. Hope you are doing well and enjoying your holiday. Would you like to grab some butterbeer with me during the summer? The owl knows where to find me.  
Dean”

Castiel had not hesitated, returning the owl with an “I don’t have any plans. Let me know when and where and I will make sure to be there – Cas”.

Dean did let him know, and soon enough they had planned a… not a date, Cas supposed. But maybe I-am-sorry-my-dad-is-a-jackass-who-ruined-our-date. Either way, he didn’t care. Something inside him sang with the prospect of seeing Dean.  
Cas had not seen Dean in the time that had passed since John’s trial, and he was looking very much forward to do so. During the time in between their last exams, he had come to enjoy Dean’s company even more, up until a degree where he sometimes wondered how much the soulmate bond had to do with anything. Dean was easy on the eyes, fun, dedicated and hardworking. There were downsides as well, but Cas noticed them less and less as they spent more and more time together.

Charlie, however, he had talked plenty with throughout the summer. While they had not found time to meet up in person (Charlie had been traveling quite a lot with Dorothy as well), their letters had been long and detailed.

 

When the day came around, Castiel apparated from a nearby alley, ensuring that no muggles noticed him suddenly disappearing into thin air. Nausea hit him as he landed in Diagon Alley, the wizarding alley in London.

They had agreed to meet at the Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, so as soon as the worst nausea from the horrible way of traveling had subsided, he walked towards the Ice Cream Parlour. It was a lovely day, sun shining from high above, almost no clouds in the sky.  
Dean was already waiting outside the Parlour, a shy smile on his lips. The cockiness that Castiel had hated from the get go had diminished somewhat after John attacked him at the Three Brooms Inn, leaving Dean, possibly, more vulnerable. Castiel was not quite sure what the term was, and while he preferred Dean happy, he was also quite fond of the less pretentious version of him.

“Hello, Dean,” he greeted softly as they neared one another. He felt his own face tug into a smile mirroring the bright one Dean send him.

“Hey,” Dean answered, stepping in to hug Cas without hesitation. If the hug lasted a little longer than strictly necessary, no one was there to judge them.

Instead of butterbeer, they got several scoops of high-quality ice-cream in exciting flavors along with a cup of steaming hot coffee each. Dean led them to a secluded outdoor table once they had paid for their orders.

Cas sat down opposite of him, and for moments they did not talk beside appreciative sounds whenever a new flavor made their tastebuds sing in joy. Halfway through their ice creams, Dean lowered his spoon, looking at Cas with an intense gaze.

“You know, it wasn’t just for the fun and giggles I asked you to come,” Dean told him.

“I figured,” Cas agreed.

“I feel like I should tell you what Gabriel and I talked about,” Dean drove a hand through his already mussed hair, looking awkwardly around.

“You don’t have to if you don’t feel like it.”

“Yeah, I kinda do. It concerns you too.”

Instead of answering, Castiel simply cocked his head, hoping that Dean saw it as an indication to continue. He watched as Dean thoughtfully dipped the spoon into his ice cream, chewing on it slowly as if thinking about how to properly articulate what he wanted to say.

“I talked with Gabe about… you know, this stuff. Why I don’t want it. Why I keep backing off and… Yeah.” Dean shrugged, unsure. “It isn’t that I don’t like you. That would have been the issue once, but haven’t been so in a very, damned long time.

I know, that just ‘cause my dad ended up screwed in the head from losing mom, doesn’t mean that I’m going to lose you or that losing you would even lead me down that path. I’m just scared, y’know? Scared that one day, I will wake up and not see myself in the mirror anymore. Won’t recognize what vengeance, pain, and hurt has turned me into. And what if I have kids? Will I drag them through the same that I have been through?”

Castiel simply listened. He didn’t try telling Dean he was wrong. Instead, he let Dean say what he needed to. What was told wasn’t exactly news, but Dean needed to talk more about it, and each time he did, more were added as if Dean slowly came to terms with his own feelings around it.

“And then, there is also the matter of, yeah well, my dad,” Dean continued after a few bites of his slowly melting ice cream. “I’m sorry I lied to you, told you he was dead.”

“Don’t be, Dean.”

“Well, I am. To be fair, it had nothing to do with you, that I lied about it. Me and Sammy, we agreed upon it before starting in school. Would give fewer questions, less trouble, we figured, if our dad was dead rather than in Azkaban.”

They ate their ice cream in silence after that. Castiel watched Dean closely, saw how the other man moved uneasily on his chair as if deciding on whether to continue talking.

“This is not exactly an our-first-date-was-screwed-lets-take-a-second talk, but we didn’t really do things like you are supposed to anyway, huh?” Dean said, hesitating with a deep breath just to continue; “dad was pretty paranoid, as I told you. At the time being, we were living in the US, moving from state to state each time the Muggle child services snooped us out. He could only do so much with magic when not near us to mask the screams of Sam when he was hungry or to make sure they didn’t notice two small ass kids on their own.

He got a lead on mom’s killer. Apparently, the fucker had moved to England or so did dad believe. He moved us here, leaving us with an old friend of his who had moved here before the war, for prolonged periods of time. It was better when he did that. But his hunting down mom’s killer got more paranoid with time, he was so sure that the government was out to get him too. That her killer was in their ranks, somehow masked, somehow making sure that none would snoop it out. I don’t know how he got the idea, but to be honest, I am not sure he was thinking straight at times.” Dean swallowed. “He was drunk out of his mind often. Bobby wasn’t happy with it, yelled at dad for letting us see him like that.”

Dean hesitated, looking torn with the prospect of continuing.

“I will get us another cup of coffee,” Cas gently told him, placing a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder as he passed on the way inside the Ice Cream Parlour. He figured Dean could use a moment with his thoughts. If nothing else, Castiel needed one.

When Cas returned, Dean was still caught in his own mind, green eyes staring out into air. He perked up a little when the cups of coffee were placed on the table and Castiel sat down.

“Dad joined the dark side, Cas. He joined Voldemort and his followers, so sure that the darkest wizard of all times would be the solution, the one leading him to the answers as of who had killed mom and why. He didn’t kill, but he found vital information that could have led to Voldemort winning the war, to Dementors roam the streets… Dammit, he could have screwed so much over because he was convinced of it.

And you know what the worst part is? He was damned right. Her killer was hiding within the Ministry of Magic. Dad killed him, didn’t even care that it was in the middle of the day and that several muggles had to be Obliviated because they saw him perform magic… Dad was convicted, during the trial everything else came up. His sentence was reduced because everyone thought him insane and he got out early because of good behavior. Talked with healers specializing in minds and he took potions meant to help with the so-called delusions. Even when he presented them the evidence that he was telling the truth, that Azazel indeed had been the killer, they thought him paranoid.”

The post war regiment had been too soft like that, Castiel knew. Mental illness became a defense like it was in the muggle world. The post war regiment had tried to start something new, and giving out ridiculously long sentences had been somewhat against that. Instead of having Dementors guarding Azkaban, they had head wizards taking turns as guards. A lot had changed since Harry Potter had killed off Voldemort, most for the better.

“I didn’t want his deeds to follow me to school. I didn’t want to be the boy with the dead mom and the insane dad. I didn’t want to be the kid whose dad was a traitor. So, Sam and I, we agreed that it would be better to make everyone believe he was dead. Wasn’t like we could go see him, anyway. Wasn’t like it was going to matter, we figured. Wasn’t like anyone would learn the truth, either way.” Dean sighed slowly, then send Cas a small smile.

“I guess this isn’t really what you are supposed to talk about at second tries at first dates either, huh?”

“Maybe not,” Cas agreed, a smile of his own playing around his lips. “But I do very much appreciate your honesty. I did wonder why you chose to lie.”

On the last note, Castiel added: “I would have too if the roles had been reversed.”

 

They drank their coffees in silence after that, each having their own thoughts to sort through. Once finished, Cas suggested that they could walk a little around, possibly talk some more, if Dean wanted. As it turned out, Dean was entirely on board with that. 

Hours passed with light and easy conversation. Castiel felt warm and content during the entire thing, and if Dean’s bright smile and whole-body laughs were something to go by, he was feeling the same.

“Do you want to continue this with dinner?” Castiel asked, then added. “My treat.”

“Sure, if you pay, I suppose I can stand hanging out a few more hours,” Dean winked at him.

“Ever tried muggle food?”

“Some, not much.”

“You have missed out on some,” Cas informed him. “Come, I know a Muggle joint not too far away from here.”

“You want to eat muggle?” Dean raised a brow as if he didn’t quite believe there was good Muggle food out there.

“Yes, they are quite good cooks,” he insisted.

“Well, as long as you have the money and terminology under control, fine by me.” Dean shrugged as Castiel led them through the Leaky Cauldron and out into the muggle world.  
It was half an hour of walking until they made it to Castiel’s chosen destination. Dean walked beside him, their knuckles brushing ever so often. The silence had settled comfortably between them. Where it often had been awkward when they had studied, Cas found himself enjoying the way they were able to be silent together.

However, Castiel couldn’t help but wonder about certain things as they walked. He still had no idea why Dean had decided on a second date. He got the part where Dean wanted to explain himself, explain why he had lied about his father and have things cleared up about their bond. But it was Dean who had decided on it being a date. Not necessarily a bad one. But a necessary and emotional one, that was for sure. Still, it hadn’t needed to be a date.  
Cas didn’t feel like asking, risking the atmosphere of content between the two of them.

Instead, he enjoyed the brushes of knuckles against knuckles as they walked, the comfortable silence that had settled between them. He looked forward to showing Dean the joys of the Muggle world, had a feeling that Dean would really enjoy the perfectly greasy burgers and fries they were about to devour. In all his time in the wizarding world, he had yet to encounter a magic version of burgers.

“Ever had a burger?” he asked Dean before pushing open the door to the joint.

“Don’t think so, no.”

Even better, then.

They were seated by a sweet-looking Muggle girl with her platinum blond hair in a braid. She handed them the menus and left them to decide.

“Are all Muggle places like this?”

“Nah. They come in all varieties” Cas told him, skimming through the items.

“I don’t even know what half of this is!” Dean exclaimed, brows closing in over the bridge of his nose.

“I can order for you?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, closing his menu.

The blond-haired girl returned to take their orders. Two bacon cheeseburgers with a side of curly fries, mayo, and ketchup along with beers and iced water for both.

 

When returning home, stomach full to the brim with burgers and beers, Castiel felt satisfied. Dean did too, he could tell from the happy fuss over their bond. It was relaxing to tune into.  
It had been a good date.

Apparating home seemed like a bad idea when he was as full as he was, he did not feel like losing his entire dinner to the toilet. Instead, he settled for the slower, but much less nausea inducing train ride. It would give him time to collect his thoughts before his mother started asking him questions about how it went.

Once home he took a quick shower. To his relief, his mother was long gone to bed and Gabriel had moved out over the summer. He didn’t mind keeping what had happened at the date private for a little longer. As soon as Gabriel had gotten the apartment on top of the candy shop reconditioned he had moved out, leaving Castiel and their mother behind. Cas had helped with the renovations as much as he had been able to.  
While letting the hot water stream down his body, he could not help but think of how their date had turned out. Pride swelled in him as he recalled how Dean had told him more about his past. His thoughts drifted further. Castiel could not have been more satisfied with Dean’s reaction to the burgers. When they had arrived at the table, Dean had looked weirdly at them, then at Cas. But as soon as he had tasted them… Well, Castiel would forever savor the sound of Dean moaning softly around the greasy perfection, eyes closed in appreciation. The sound had gone straight to Castiel’s groin. He had hurried to think about non-arousing stuff, hoping that the bond did not give any indication his sudden change in thoughts as Dean continued to devour his burger with gusto.

The way Dean had smirked at him afterward suggested that he had known exactly where Castiel’s blood had rushed. 

Warm water kept streaming down his body as he stroked himself to the thought of Dean’s lips wrapped around something quite different than a burger, orgasm powerful enough that he barely kept balance on the slippery floor. It took a while before he had calmed enough to trust himself to let go of the wall.

Castiel slept well that night.


	14. Chapter 14

Castiel was not surprised when Gabriel invited him over to visit. In fact, he had expected it for quite a while. His application as a junior-healer to St Mungo’s, the Hospital for Magic Maladies and Injuries, had been sent and Gabriel had promised cakes if he visited after the application was delivered. Castiel was usually not that big on sweets, but Gabriel’s cakes were amazing. Always well-balanced and tasty, even the stranger combinations he had experimented with through time.

When Castiel turned up at Gabriel’s it was a surprise to see Dean there as well. From the look of it, Gabriel had given him the ‘hurt my brother and die’ talk. Gabe looked serious, Dean on edge. Both lit up with smiles as they noticed Castiel approaching them. Gabriel was smiling widely, Dean relieved as if Castiel had saved him from a horrible fate. 

“Cassie!” Gabriel exclaimed as he drew Cas in for a hug.

“Cassie?” Dean snickered. Once Gabriel let go and Dean had gotten a hug of his own, Castiel explained that Gabriel had always called him Cassie. Why, he had no idea, and Gabriel had never explained it.

Gabriel coughed loud and fake, causing them to step half a step away from one another.

“I must admit that I have a purpose with asking both of you here,” Gabe told them with all seriousness. “Dean told me some stuff that got me thinking. And I thought it was too bad that the only experience you have with soulmates, is your dad being a deadbeat drunk.”

“Gabe!” Cas hissed.

Gabriel continued like he hadn’t heard his little brother: “So, I have been asking around, and I have found you guys another soulmate couple. They have agreed to talk with ya.” He shrugged bright and unapologetic smile around his lips.

“You have what now?” Dean asked, baffled by the turn of events. By the sound of his voice, he had been promised cakes as well.

“Found you guys a happy soulmate couple where neither is dead so you can get a little more perspective on the case before you totally refuse to be with Cassie, Dean-o.”

Dean made a strange sound, looking at Castiel like he was supposed to hold the answers to why his brother acted like this. Cas couldn’t do anything but shrug for an answer. It was news to him as well, though he wasn’t too surprised, knowing Gabriel and all.

“We can just as well talk to them, can’t we?” Cas suggested, softly. “It is not like we have anything to lose by doing so.”

Dean looked hesitant for a moment, then his eyes set as he nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Gabriel’s smile turned into an even bigger one as he led them into the shop. He had changed things quite a lot in there, Castiel noticed. Out the back, there was a small terrace with a table and chairs.

“I will be out here with some coffee and sweets,” Gabe told them, leaving Dean and Castiel to introduce themselves to the couple.

Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised Castiel that the two sitting at the table were both men. They seemed friendly enough. Tracking down a soulmate-couple would have been hard enough, but managing to find a pair of homosexuals as well? Cas was honest to god baffled that Gabriel had done so. He gave Dean a quick look. He seemed even more shocked that Cas felt.

Leaning over the table he offered his hand to the two men, presenting himself with a soft: “I’m Castiel.” Jesse and Cesar extended their hands and their names to him as well. Dean kept standing behind him, a little wary of the situation. It wasn’t until Gabriel pushed open the door with a plate in his hand that Dean made a move.

“I’m Dean,” he mumbled, cheeks stained red with embarrassment. Cas assumed that it was because of the way he had acted. Dean took the chair beside him after he had extended his hand to both men as well.

“So,” Jesse started, leaning back into his chair. “Gabriel has told us a little about what is going on.”

“Is that so?” Dean sent Gabriel a long look, which the older wizard returned with a wink.

“Well, I had to say something to convince them to get here,” Gabe said, all serious. “There, coffee, tea, and sweets. I’ll leave you guys alone.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” Cesar remarked.

And with that, Gabriel left them with to virtual strangers who knew more than Castiel was comfortable with.

“How long have you guys known one another?” Dean asked, leaning back with arms crossed as if he challenged them. His entire posture seemed stiff and the bond told Castiel that Dean was far from being happy about the situation. Dean obviously felt cornered by the way Gabriel had chosen to do things. Cas understood. 

“Oh… That would be about…” Cesar’s forehead scrunched up as he looked at his husband. Castiel had just noticed that both were wearing wedding rings.

“Well, we did meet at the train to Hogwarts,” Jesse grinned. “But it wasn’t until much, much later that we learned about us being soulmates. We started dating at around the fifth year I think?” Cesar nodded at that.

“Well, I can’t say being queer was easy then, but we had one another. We did well enough. We continued to date throughout school, and well, afterward. At that time being able to cast the Patronus wasn’t a requirement for passing anything either, but since both of us wanted to pursue a career as Aurors, it ended up being. Imagine our surprise when we saw the way our animals interacted.” Jesse’s smile grew even wider, something loving sparkling in his eyes. The two men looked at one another, the moment so intense that Castiel almost felt like he was interrupting something by merely being there. The uncomfortable way Dean moved in his chair suggested that he felt the same way.

“What did Gabe tell you?” Cas found himself asking, once Cesar and Jesse had turned their eyes away from one another.

“Not much. That Dean’s parents had been soulmates, and that his dad went off the grid once his mom died. That neither of you wants the bond,” said Cesar. His words caused Cas to move away from his gaze. It wasn’t entirely true, not anymore. But he wasn’t about to force Dean into something he didn’t want. The dates could suggest that Dean had somewhat changed his mind, but while they had talked about a lot, exactly how they felt about one another had never been a topic.

Dean nodded slightly. “Dad didn’t just go off the grid,” he explained. “He went completely mental, drunk and abusive. He was so focused on getting his revenge that me and Sammy, we didn’t really matter anymore.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Jesse told him, his voice soft. Dean shrugged as if indifferent to the words, but Castiel could sense that he wasn’t. 

“We are not here to convince you to give in to the bond and be together. But when Gabriel told us about it… It is a lot to throw away without knowing what it could also be.”

“Tell me, then.” Dean’s voice sounded harsh and demanding. Castiel could see the way his jaw moved, how his gaze was far from steady. Tuning in on the bond, he realized that Dean was scared. Bone-deep terrified. Hope was laced in with the fear. And Castiel, not knowing what else to think, couldn’t help but wonder if that meant that Dean maybe, just maybe, wanted it like he did.

“I bet you have already felt the bond by now. It may be superficial, only allowing for the strongest of feelings whenever you are in close quarters of one another,” Cesar started. “But that develops into something so strong, so powerful that I doubt you can even imagine it in your dreams at this point. It is beautiful, really. You get to know someone better than anyone else. You are compatible together in a way you won’t be with others. It isn’t that you can’t find love outside the bond, but it won’t be as strong a thing.”

Jesse picked up the thread and continued:

“I was… Opposed to the idea at first, to be honest. Not being with Cesar, I had gotten quite used to that, but the idea of souls being able to bond like that. Of souls, too, possibly. It is hard to be certain of as of now, so many years later. I suddenly doubted if he really wanted to be with me or if he felt that it was necessary because of the soulmate-thing. I am glad he managed to convince me otherwise. It is hard to deny the intensity or sincerity of someone else’s feelings when you can feel them.”

Castiel sighed softly at that, Dean’s head snapped to him.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it,” Cas said.

“Noticed what?”

“The bond,” he almost rolled his eyes. Almost.

Dean seemed to think hard for a moment, then he looked at Castiel like he just that moment realized something. “Oh,” he said softly, before looking away again.

For a moment, an awkward silence settled around the table, with Dean seemingly fighting with himself.

“Yes, I did. I just… I wasn’t sure, I thought I was imagining things for sure. Back with Cole? I swear I could feel your distress in the other end of the castle.” Dean swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with it. His eyes were wide, brow furrowed as if he didn’t really believe it. For moments, the two of them just stared at one another, then Dean turned his head to Cesar and Jesse.

“That would be about how it feels at first, yeah,” Jesse confirmed as his husband nodded along with it.

“Wasn’t it confusing, before you knew that it was a soulmate-bond going on?” Cas found himself asking.

“Much so,” agreed Jesse. “But mostly, it just felt like intuition. It wasn’t quite as strong as what Dean there describes, not before we let it. I believe both of us partially blocked the bond at first, not knowing what it was and all. Once we realized and acknowledged the bond, things started to change. It takes work to strengthen it.”

“What changes did you notice?” Cas continued to ask, since Dean seemed to be fine with him leading the conversation.

Cesar paused to think for a short while. “More shared feelings… I wouldn’t say we are able to communicate with one another via mind-links, but sometimes it feels like a damned close thing. Like, if we just used a little more time practicing, we could,” Cesar explained. “The connection gets stronger over a distance too, when you give into it. At first, we could feel one another when being near, hence why it was hard to disguise from intuition, but by now I can feel Jesse’s stronger emotions from… Well, a very long distance.”

 

They continued to talk for hours. Jesse and Cesar turned out to be both friendly and funny. Dean eventually lost his initial reluctance towards them, laughing freely like they had known each other for more than a few hours.

They also agreed to keep in contact. No matter what Cas and Dean decided to do, it had still been pleasant meeting another soulmate couple.

The way Jesse and Cesar had looked at them, at last, made Castiel feel like they noticed something that he did not. But once he turned his head, he couldn’t help but notice how his features softened, how his insides turned butter-soft and warm just by looking at Dean. The comfortable feeling the near proximity gave. Maybe he understood what they had seen, after all. He didn’t know if Dean did, didn’t dare to pull at his end of the bond to figure it out, too scared that all he would find was regret, disgust or similar emotions toward him. Even the soft look in Dean’s eyes, the warmth in his smile, couldn’t convince Cas otherwise in that moment. It was too new, the thought of either of them wanting it. Too raw and scary. Emotions he had not previously been aware of had been touched during their conversation.

Hugs were exchanged before Jesse and Cesar apparated away, leaving Dean and Cas alone in Gabriel’s garden.

 

Judging by the sun, it was early in the evening. Castiel shuffled from one foot to another, stiffly, from having sat down so long.

“I don’t know what I expected…” Dean sighed, softly, looking at the sky as well.

Cas did not answer.

“Well, I had a lot of ideas when Gabriel invited me over. I feared that I had done something to hurt you and was in for a beating or something. This, though, I hadn’t even thought of.”

“Gabe is like that,” Cas agreed, softly, relaxing his shoulders. Dean let out a huffing breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, he is.”

“I am sure you would do the same thing for Sam.”

Dean nodded but didn’t look at Cas, eyes distant with thoughts. They had talked enough, there would be plenty of time later. The weight of Dean’s arm around his shoulders wasn’t a surprise, not anymore. Closing his eyes for a moment, he leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder. How long they stood like that, in comfortable silence, he had no idea.

When Dean moved, Cas did so too. They ended up close enough to breathe the same air, Dean’s pupils blown to a point where almost no green was left, cheeks flushed with color. He wondered if he looked equally flustered. Dean’s gaze flickered over Castiel’s face, the bond humming happily inside of him, pulling him the inches closer to Dean  
.  
It felt so easy, leaning in, letting their lips touch softly. At first, Dean wasn’t responding, lips stiff with confusion. Just as Cas was about to pull away, Dean started kissing him, soft and gentle. The nervous energy that Dean didn’t want it moved, making space for something so warm and fuzzy it made his knees feel like jelly.

And just as his breathing started to get racked, Dean withdrew. The bond was no longer something warm and nice, fear pounded towards him with what could have been Dean’s heartbeat. Dean kept staring at him, lips still pink and slick with spit as the color drained from his face.

Then he was gone, apparated into thin air.

Castiel stood alone in Gabriel’s garden, heart pounding in his chest, breathing in and out shallowly. Once again Dean had left him with questions unsaid.

 

Maybe Dean’s rejecting him should not have hurt him as much as it did. After all, he had known all along that Dean hadn’t been on board with the whole soulmate-thing. Just because he changed his mind didn’t mean that Dean suddenly did so too.

But it didn’t stop his body from aching at the thought of him, didn’t change the hollow feeling in his chest. Not having anything to do with his time, Castiel paced a lot, his loft empty and quiet. He had moved a few days prior to meeting Jesse and Cesar. Had looked forward to being a real adult with his own place. Somehow heartbreak hadn’t been thought into that. Castiel felt alone.

Convinced that the talk with the other soulmate-couple had changed Dean’s mind, he had dared to initiate the kiss. When Dean had kissed back, he had been so happy it had almost hurt.

 

The letter from St Mungo's Hospital arrived a few weeks after the incident in Gabriel’s garden. Part of him had started believing that he was not worthy of the training as a healer, but apparently, someone higher above in the hospital had another idea. He couldn’t be happier about it.

Only briefly did he wonder if Dean had received a letter like that from the Auror department.


	15. Chapter 15

A year and a half into his training as a healer, Castiel could treat minor injuries on his own as well as assist with major trauma. He could supervise long recoveries with little to no help from his mentor. Hannah Abbott, the mentor assigned to him, was more than satisfied with his work.

At the hospital, Castiel never felt as the odd one out. If he continued to do his job well, no one cared that he liked wizards rather than witches. Healers were needed, and sexuality, skin color, gender or weight didn’t matter.

It had been one of those busy days. Everyone had been running from one patient to another, traumas coming in faster than they could treat them. He wasn’t in a foul mood when he rounded the corner for that day's last patient before his break, but he was exhausted. Grabbing the card one of the assistant’s handed him as he walked into the room. A broken humerus, lacerations to the upper body, some deep enough to need potions or a spell to ensure correct healing. Signs of trauma to the head, albeit the patient was conscious. After knowing the essentials, he skimmed to the personal information. Male, 20 years old. Name; Dean Winchester. Sam Winchester listed as next of kin. Junior Auror. Castiel felt as he were about to throw up. Already halfway in the room, it was too late to turn his heel and give the chart to someone else. No one else would be able to take on another patient, everyone was too busy. It was too late to do anything but treat the soulmate who had left him. Emotions pushing under the surface were ignored. He was a healer, he had a job to do.

 

Castiel had somewhat anticipated feeling something if Dean ever showed up at the hospital. He hadn’t. Still didn’t when he continued to Dean’s bed.

“Mr. Winchester?” he asked, just to watch Dean’s head jerk up in his direction. Castiel kept his voice professional, albeit colder than he would usually talk to his patients.

“Yes?” Dean answered, his voice laced with pain. He looked at Castiel, like wondering if what he saw was real or if he had hit his head harder than first thought.

“Can you tell me how you got your injuries?”

“Isn’t that on the chart?” Dean looked tired, skin a grayish pale. His eyes looked sunken in, dark circles framing them.

“No.” Yes, yes it was, but he always asked when the patient was lucid and the injuries non-life threatening. It wasn’t always that the assistants noted down was what he needed to do the correct treatment.

Dean shortly told him how his job had led to arresting a wizard who sold dark artifacts. As it turned out, the wizard had not been entirely on board with being arrested and he had opposed. Violently so. Dean had been pushed down from a ladder, resulting in the injuries now showing all over his body.

“Did you hit your head?”

“May have,” Dean mumbled.

“Any episodes of blackouts, dizziness, pain, after falling?”

“Yeah. I was pushed down a freaking ladder.”

“I gathered that the first time around, thank you very much,” Cas answered. “I want you to stay overnight for observation, and I am not much for giving you any kind of painkillers due to the possible head injury.”

“Bullshit!” Dean spat out, holding his broken arm close to his torso.

“It is standard procedure when dealing with possible head trauma, Mr. Winchester. Pain-relieving potions or spells would make it almost impossible to get the symptoms in time, if it turns out that your brain starts to swell,” Castiel explained, coolly.

“You just want me to be in pain.”

“I can assure you that…”

Dean interrupted angrily: “Yeah you do. Because I left!”

“Would you allow me to do my job, Mr. Winchester, or would you prefer to wait for the next healer having time to deal with you?” Castiel asked, feeling his patience wearing thin. Maybe he had wanted Dean to be in pain for his actions, once, but it hadn’t been like that for a long time.

Dean’s mouth moved into a thin line, but he stopped protesting.

“Thank you,” Castiel said softly. “Brackium Emendo!” He pointed the wand to Dean’s upper arm, the blue light shining from the end of his wand as the healing magic did what it had to do. The relief was easy to read on Dean’s face as the broken bone mended back together.   
Castiel then continued to apply wound cleaning and healing paste to all of Dean’s wounds, taking care to not harm him unnecessarily. Contrary to Dean’s belief, Castiel was far from happy with the amount of pain Dean was in.

“The paste should have a slight numbing effect too. Hopefully, you will be able to sleep tonight.” Castiel informed him. He hadn’t meant for his voice to be as gentle as it turned out.   
For the first time since he had entered the room, he felt the bond tuck gently at him. Gratitude filled him when he gently allowed the door to open.

“Will you be the one on watch?”

Cas laughed, softly. “Oh, yeah. I will. You are the last inpatient I have until my break.” If things had gone according to plans, he wouldn’t have been in before his night-shift. But with the number of patients needing treatment, it was just how it was. If he got too tired, they had wake-potions (or coffee which he much prefered to the sour taste of the wake-potions).

Dean looked as if he wanted to say something more, a troubled look on his face. But after a few attempts where he had opened and closed his mouth, he stopped trying.

“See you then, healer Novak.”

Castiel responded with a nod and left the room, scribbling down on the chart what treatments he had given Dean along with the overnight observation to make sure that no brain-swelling or bleeding occurred. Strictly speaking, he could have sent Dean home, if he had someone checking in on him throughout the night. But if Castiel had, to be honest, he hadn’t felt like asking Dean if he lived with someone, in case the answer came back that he had a significant other. For all he knew, that could have happened. Instead of dwelling on dangerous thoughts, Cas hurried towards the break room to chat with his fellow healers.

 

When Castiel returned after his break, Dean was fast asleep. He gently checked his pulse and breathing rate. Satisfied with the results he then proceeded to make sure the wounds healed as they were supposed to. A frown tucked in the corners of his mouth. The smaller of the wounds was supposed to have fully healed. They could have healed on their own just fine, given enough time. But with the paste applied, there should at worst be a faint pink line indicating where the cuts had been. As far as Cas could tell, there was no difference. Gently he peeled back one of the bandages covering the bigger one, just to see the same. The bleeding had stopped, sure, but that could just as well be due to the pressure applied from the bandages.

Castiel walked out of the room to find a senior healer.

“Healing time is different for everyone, you know this, Novak.” The healer dismissed him, obviously annoyed, without even seeing Dean. Castiel knew they were busy, but wounds not healing at all should be a reason for worry. Obviously, the senior healer thought he was too inexperienced to know the difference between slow healing and no healing at all.

Hannah Abbott found him slumping in the hall with the senior healer walking away.

“What was that about?” she asked softly, blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail so it wouldn’t distract her work.

“I am having a patient, and his wounds do not seem to heal,” Castiel explained, moving his hand dismissively. “I am sure it is nothing, but… He is young, he is healthy, I did everything like I was supposed to. There is no reason that those wounds haven’t healed.”

Hannah placed a hand on his shoulder. “You remember the first thing I told you?”

“Yeah. When in doubt, always go with your gut.”

“Exactly,” she agreed, “so what does your gut tell you about this one?”

“That something is off,” Cas told her.

“Let’s go see that patient of yours.”

When they arrived at the room, Dean was still asleep. He didn’t even as much as stir when Cas and Hannah entered the room. Hannah had grabbed the chart at the door and was reading through it.

“Wake him up,” she told him, voice distant as she was still reading.

Castiel gently grabbed Dean’s shoulder while calling his name. Dean did not react. He tried a little a little harder, a little louder. Still no reaction. He was distantly aware of how frantic his voice grew, how Hannah had to hold his arms to stop him from full on shaking Dean awake.

“Breathe, Castiel. You are not useful like this.” Hannah told him, forcing him to look at her rather than Dean.

It took several deep breaths before he felt somewhat like himself again.

“I take it that you know him?”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. Then he looked at the door, making sure it was closed from curious ears. “We are soulmates.”

“Wait, what?” she repeated, “you never mentioned that you were in a relationship.”

“I’m not.” 

Hannah gave him a close look, face shifting into something sympathetic. “I see.”

“What do we do, Hannah?” His voice was too high, too close to breaking.

Weak, mumbling sounds came from the bed. Both healers turned their heads, watching as Dean slowly opened his eyes with a “whaaa?”

Cas closed his eyes, breathing out heavily with relief.

“Interesting,” Hannah observed as she moved closer towards Dean. “Have you always been a heavy sleeper?”

Dean looked at her, confused, brows almost touching over the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t think so,” Dean mumbled before stretching tiredly.

Hannah looked at Castiel like he was somehow supposed to know how Dean usually slept. But they had never shared a bed. It wasn’t something he had a chance to know anything about.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, gesturing for Castiel to come closer as well.

“I think I would feel one hell of a lot better if the two of you stopped staring at me like I am about to die,” he grumbled, closing his eyes. “A minor headache, not much pain in the wounds, why?”

“Healer Novak here just wasn’t entirely satisfied with the way your wounds were healing, so he got me to get a second opinion,” Hannah told him. “If you will allow me to, that is.”

Dean agreed, leaning comfortably back against an array of pillows while Hannah examined his wounds.

“It is approximately 3 hours since the paste was applied, correct?” she turned her head to Castiel, who nodded in agreement.

“Do I need to worry?” Dean asked. He sounded more tired that worried.

“Absolutely not, Mr. Winchester. Healing is different for everyone.” Hannah assured him before asking him about his medical history and how he usually reacted to medications. Castiel heard nothing in Dean’s answers indicating why his wounds seemed unable to heal like they were supposed to.

“Novak, the two of us needs to get back to rounds. Mr. Winchester, it was a pleasure meeting you. Healer Novak will return to you soon.” The blond healer rose to her feet, and Castiel followed her out of the room. She continued to walk until they reached their lunch room.  
The door closed with a soft thud after them.

“Do you know what is going on, Hannah?”

“No, no I don’t. But I agree that it is weird that his body is not responding to the healing paste. He is young, healthy, nothing in his history indicated any problems towards healing properly.”   
Hannah pinched the bridge of her nose while she thought. Castiel simply awaited what she would say next.

“My gut feeling tells me that something else is going on too. I don’t know what, but I want you to stay with him. Observe him, make sure that there are no further complications. See that he stays awake too. I don’t like how long it took him to wake up in the first place.”

“Okay,” Cas agreed.

“Are you sure that you do not mind, Castiel? I know I have no clue what is going on between the two of you, but having a soulmate that you are not together with…” She grimaced. It was indeed odd.

“He is my patient, Hannah. Of course, I can do it.”

“I will check in with you guys later,” promised Hannah before she handed him a cup of coffee and send him off.

 

Dean was groggy when Castiel arrived with the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Can I have some of that?” Dean asked.

“No. Caffeine is not a clever idea with head injuries.” Cas tried to get comfortable in the chair meant for visitors.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have rounds to do or whatever?” Dean asked.

“Sure,” Castiel answered, “but Hannah figured I would be of better use looking after you.”

“So, the part where I was not to worry is complete bullshit?”

“No. But you are not healing like we want you to, so we figured that it was better being safe than sorry,” he answered, sipping on his coffee.

 

The proceeded to sit in silence. Castiel wasn’t about to ask Dean why he had left and never reached out. Dean apparently wasn’t going to offer him anything.

It doomed for one hell of a long night.

“Could you get me a glass of water?” asked Dean, breaking the silence.

“Sure.” Cas got up, got the water. The watch on his wrist told him that half an hour had passed. “Will you allow me to check your wounds again in half an hour?” He handed Dean the cup.

Dean drank greedily, licking his lips. The way he looked at the cup made Cas offer to get him more.

“I see you got to be a healer like you wanted to,” Dean remarked, placing the cup on the small table beside his bed.

“I did indeed. And you an Auror.”

“Yeah.” Dean exhaled softly. “It is a far cry from what I imagined it would be.”

“What is different?” Cas found himself asking. It would be a lot easier for both to stay awake if they were talking. Castiel couldn’t help feeling that Dean owed him an explanation as to why he had vanished into the thin air after they had kissed in Gabriel’s garden.

And Dean told him. How it was more paperwork than saving people, hunting things like his dad had done. How he often grew frustrated, working overtime without getting paid for it. How it was to have his supervisors breathing down his neck, fearing he would turn out like daddy dearest and kill one of them. But hell, if that was what they thought, why had they agreed to take him in as a junior in the first place? Dean’s frustration was clear in his voice as he talked. Cas got the impression that Dean wasn’t as fond of his job as he had thought he would be.  
So, in return, Castiel told him about working at the hospital. Hannah couldn’t have been a greater supervisor, but others weren’t showing him any respect. Some nights he stayed awake, wondering if he would turn into an equally cold, distant and superior-acting person once he was a senior-healer too. It was a scary prospect.

Castiel controlled Dean’s wounds every hour or so. Whenever he went to update Hannah on the lack of progress, he got himself another cup of coffee. Cas very well knew he would turn into a jittery puddle of anxious goo if he kept up his intake of caffeine, but he had to keep awake. Had to keep an eye on Dean, making sure that his condition didn’t suddenly turn bad.

 

Dean was still awake and lucid when he arrived with cup number 6 that night.

“Seriously, Cas, why can’t I get a cup too?”

“Didn’t I just tell you about the thorough list of Muggle studies showing caffeine possibly having a damaging effect on head injuries?” he answered, rolling his eyes with feeling. Dean could be a pain in the ass.

“Muggle studies!” Dean exclaimed, obviously frustrated with Castiel.

“You know, they are right about a lot of things. And given the lack of magical methods to deal with head injuries…” Cas shrugged, trying to prove his point. “Sure, we can regrow brain tissue. We can’t make it function. We make neurons, but we can’t make them fire. Brains are advanced like that, and since my understanding is inadequate at best, I am not going to jeopardize your head by giving you coffee.”

Dean made an exasperated noise, crossing his arms. Cas couldn’t help but think of him as a three-year-old when he sat like that, pouting.

“I still think you are enjoying punishing me,” Dean told him, sounding like he meant it.

“I’m not.” Cas raised a brow. Why did Dean keep thinking that Cas was punishing him? He was merely trying to help. Make sure that no further damage was done.

“Why does it feel that way?” the green-eyed wizard sighed, leaning back into the bed with an attitude of giving up on Castiel.

“I don’t know. Maybe because you feel like I should punish you?”

“Should you?”

“You were the one who left, Dean,” he sighed. Castiel didn’t feel like he was punishing Dean for it by denying him coffee. If anything, Cas was the one being punished by doing so.  
In the silence of the hospital room, he could hear Dean swallow. If he had looked at his soulmate, he would have seen how the Adam’s apple bobbed, and the fear, the pain in Dean’s eyes. But he kept his gaze at the cup. For the first time since he had walked into that room, he could feel Dean.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, so softly that Castiel had to turn his head to look at him.

“Why?” Cas asked, voice bland and without emotion or accusation in it.

Dean moved uncomfortably on the bed, fidgeting with the hem of his comforter. “Too much, too soon, I suppose,” he answered, voice small and so filled with emotion it almost hurt.

“Yeah, I understand that. I know I overwhelmed you, I know I freaked you out. But had you not been hurt, had I not been assigned as your healer, would you ever have reached out, Dean?”

“I don’t know.” Well, at the least that was honest. Castiel couldn’t really ask for more than that. No matter how much the truth hurt.

“I get that you needed time, but what about me, Dean? What about how I felt?” he kept his voice low. His emotions were pushing against his carefully set boundaries, the walls he had built around himself after his soulmate had left him.

“I didn’t… Fuck, Cas, I am so sorry, okay? I know it was a shit thing to do. I know I acted like a coward. Don’t you think I fucking know how bad I messed up the moment I apparated away from you? I wanted to go back the moment I got back on my feet, wanted so badly to apologize. I screwed up so badly.”

Castiel looked away, unable to stomach both the pleading in Dean’s voice and his eyes. Dean wasn’t that good of an actor and Cas knew he meant what he said.

“So why, Dean, why didn’t you contact me?” Cas kept his eyes on where Dean’s feet was hiding under the comforter.

“I was too damned scared, Cas. ‘cause I knew I didn’t deserve another chance, and it was so much easier to not even try than try and risk you telling me to fuck off.” Dean’s breath was hitching in his throat, voice an octave too high. Even without the soulmate-bond tugging in him, telling him how sorry Dean was, he would have known, he would have. It was impossible to ignore the sincerity in Dean’s voice when it was so laced with fear of rejection.

“I wouldn’t have, and you know that,” he coldly told Dean’s covered feet.

“What do you expect of me, Cas?” Dean shrieked.

“To be honest with me, that is what!” Castiel exploded back at him, breathing hard from the outburst. “I just want to know where we stand, is all! Do you want this, or don’t you? I don’t give a rat’s ass if you have decided we are better off without one another, but I do deserve to know if my soulmate doesn’t want me!” His voice wasn’t breaking at the end, his eyes weren't stinging with tears. Dean didn’t deserve that kind of reaction from him. He could have contacted Cas. He could have sent a letter.

Dean was quiet for so long that Castiel started to worry. Somehow, he hadn’t been prepared to see Dean’s face covered in tears, the way his jaw quivered with the effort to keep quiet.  
Dean didn’t look away. Didn’t try to hide. The raw sorrow pounded against Castiel, the bond attacking him with emotions he barely managed to push against. It was like holding water behind a dam made out of a piece of cardboard. It wasn’t going to hold. Castiel could only hope that he was able to hold back long enough to get out of the hospital and home.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Dean rasped.

“God so help me, Dean, I have no idea what you are talking about right now,” admitted Cas, utterly confused.

“Fuck,” Dean whispered.

Castiel had nothing to add to that, his eyes once again finding Dean’s covered toes very interesting.

“I don’t deserve you,” Dean stated, voice quivering. “I don’t, Cas. That is why I apparated. Why I never wrote to you, asked for your forgiveness. I am not worth the trouble, and I figured, I thought, that you would be happier without me. That me leaving would enable you to get the life you should have with someone who deserves your love and attention. I ran because I could feel you. Because I felt the depth of your love. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you waste all that on me. I couldn’t continue to play around with illusion of us being fine, of things working out the way it had before.”

“You found out I loved you, and you left?” Castiel could hear the ice in his own voice.

Dean flinched. “No, not like that. Never like that. I started caring too much, and I couldn’t do that. ‘cause if I started… caring that much about you, I would screw things up. I… I am so, so sorry Cas.”

Castiel noticed how Dean deliberately did not use the word love about his feelings for Cas. What it meant, he was less sure of.

“I was so sure, Dean. I was so sure that you felt the same as I did. I could have sworn I felt it too.”

Dean swallowed again, refusing to meet Castiel’s eyes.

“I think you fear to let your father down, Dean.”

“Not my father,” Dean protested half-heartedly. John still held a lot of influence over his oldest son, Cas realized.

“Then who could possibly care about who you are with? Sam sure as hell doesn’t!” Castiel pointed out, anger in his voice. Dammit, why wouldn’t Dean grow a pair and admit that he could be in love with another man? Sam had been nothing but happy at their behalf.

“My mom.” Dean’s voice broke with it like it was the first time he had said it out loud.

“Why would she?”

“Dad… Dad said…” Castiel watched as Dean’s eyes flickered unsure, quivering becoming more noticeable when he didn’t use all his focus keeping it down.

“Dean, from what you have told me, your mom doesn’t sound like a woman who would judge her son based on his preferences in gender,” said Cas. Nothing Dean had said gave Cas the impression that his mom would care. Not if Dean was happy.

It itched in him to do something. Dean’s pain, his confusion, bled over the bond to a degree where Castiel had a tough time figuring out where his emotions stopped and Dean’s began. Watching Dean was even more painful. No matter what he said, Dean wouldn’t believe him.  
Words failed him. 

Castiel climbed the bed. There was barely space for him to sit beside Dean. Slowly, giving Dean time to push him away or stop him, Cas placed an arm around him. When he didn’t shy away from the contact, Cas kept his arm there, holding Dean as close as he allowed.

 

How long they sat like that, Castiel had no idea. Dean was quiet the entire time and Cas let him be, sensing that his soulmate needed the time to process everything.

Cas made sure to breathe loud and even, giving Dean something to cling to. Whenever Dean’s breathing racked, he took a few deep ones himself and kept doing it until Dean followed.

“Don’t you think your lady-boss wants an update on how I am doing?” Dean asked hoarsely, breaking the silence.

“Maybe so,” agreed Castiel, thoughtfully. He glanced towards the clock on his wrist. It had been almost three hours since he had last updated her.

Dean moved underneath his arm, so Castiel chose to do so too.

“I can do that now?” he suggested, uncertain of Dean needed a moment by himself.

When Dean nodded, Cas quickly examined the wounds. It was no longer surprising that they did not improve.

“I will be back soon,” he said as he headed for the door. Dean nodded once more, lips tight and jaw hard. Castiel understood. Instead of hurrying to find Hannah, he took a quick detour to the bathrooms. Then the lunchroom, where Hannah was sitting, dozing off in one of the chairs.  
For a moment, he debated on waking her up or not. But she would get a terrible ache in her back if she slept like that, and he needed to update her anyway.

“Hannah?” he called softly, waiting for her to wake up. She did so slowly, blinking confusedly.

“Oh, hey,” she murmured, stretching. He could hear her back pop with the movement. “How is it going?”

“No change. But he is still lucid and coherent.”

“Mhm. Let him sleep, for now, we will look at it again tomorrow. I trust that you don’t want to go home?”

“No, I am staying,” Cas told her.

“Figured.”

 

Castiel checked on Dean a few times during the night, but each time the green-eyed wizard was asleep. Cas couldn’t help but tune into the bond, sensing that Dean was fine.


	16. Chapter 16

Castiel blinked confusedly. Something hurt. He groaned. Everything hurt.

“Shush, just take it easy,” a familiar voice told him. “Just rest now.”

Rest? Resting he could do. The pain did not vanish, but something did ease it. His breathing eased. It almost felt as if he was submerged in icy water, some of the agony floating with the cold. He could hear soft murmurs. Some sounded worried, the other one cheerful.

Castiel slept.

 

The pain seemed less insisting when he woke up again. This time his blinking eyes could focus somewhat on the blond women hovering at his bedside. She looked tired, he noticed with some delay. Her skin was pale, the dark circles under her eyes prominent. When had she last slept?

“Hannah?” he croaked.

“Welcome back, Castiel. You gave us quite a scare,” she told him. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore.”

“I bet,” Hannah smiled softly. Castiel slowly turned his head. His eyes were slow at focusing like he had hit his head, but he could recall doing no such thing. His neck protested with the movements as well, but not in a painful way. Just awfully stiff.

He swallowed several times before he could talk. “Why am I in the hospital, Hannah?”

“You were hit by a truck on your way to work,” she told him.

“I was hit by a truck?” he slowly repeated, figuring that he had misunderstood something.

“Yes,” Hannah confirmed. “You have been in the hospital almost a week. We feared that your brain was swelling. Yesterday was the first time you reacted to your surroundings.”

“Sounds like an awfully stupid thing to do,” he mumbled, feeling his eyes starting to close once again. He was so, so tired.

“You should rest. I will check in on you later,” she promised before leaving the room.

Castiel weakly registered another set of feet walking in there, heavier, something warm grabbing his hand. He drifted off again, unable to figure out what it meant.

 

Each time he woke up, the pain had lessened somewhat. His right hand felt warmer than the left. That, Hannah, had no explanation for when he had asked her. But she did smile like she had something she was not telling him.

Hannah had also started him on different mixtures meant to speed up the healing and give him back his strength. Most of them tasted like chewing on sour socks. The painkilling was still limited to spells toward the different areas of his body needing it. While she was not terribly worried about brain bleedings, she was still cautious he could tell.

“Where is Dean?” he asked on his third day awake, remembering that his soulmate had been hospitalized at some point before he had been hit by a truck.

“Still in the hospital. His wounds are healing, but it is too slow for anyone to feel safe letting him back out,” Hannah told him. “I’m not sure he wants to go anywhere right now either.” The last part was added carefully, her face looking distant and wondering as if she debated on whether to tell him or not.

“Oh,” Castiel replied, not sure what to make of that.

It did make him wonder why Dean had not visited him.

 

Dean did visit him five days after he awoke the first time. Maybe it had happened before then, Castiel couldn’t be sure. The place between sleeping and being awake was still too foggy for him to trust his senses when he saw Dean sneak through the door and to his bed.

The warm hand that slid into his was very real. He squeezed it gently. The breathing beside him hitched for a moment before falling back into the relaxed pattern. Castiel was soon lulled to sleep by it.

 

It took a good three weeks in the hospital before Castiel felt somewhat secure on his feet before Hannah let him walk around the premises. He was going slow, supporting himself against the walls if needed and took a lot of breaks. But he was walking.

Castiel made his way to the neighboring room where Dean was smiling at him. Sam greeted him as well with a warm, lung-crushing hug like it hadn’t been years since they had talked the last time. It occurred to Castiel that just because Dean had chosen to leave, Sam hadn’t. His throat swelled with the thought of how he had left Sam in the dark, exactly like Dean had left him. Sam looked at him like he understood.

“You got tall,” he commented.

Sam laughed. “I always was.”

 

Dean continued to sneak into Castiel’s room at night, holding his hand. Cas was sure that Dean slept in the chair as well, which couldn’t be comfortable. And as Dean’s healer, he did not approve of Dean sleeping badly.

“There is plenty of space in the bed,” he murmured one night after Dean had laced their fingers together. Dean’s grip tightened as his body tensed. Then he let go of Castiel’s hand altogether. His fingers tried to seek out the warmth, the comfort that had just been lost when the bed creaked, the mattress shifting with the added weight.

“I hog the covers,” Dean told him.

“Bring your own,” Cas sighed, moving to make space for the other wizard.

Dean did bring his own covers the following night.

Castiel slowly got better. Having Dean in bed with him meant that he slept better. Hannah never commented, but he saw her smiling fondly whenever she caught them together. The first time Dean had almost hit himself, scrambling out of bed as fast as possible.

 

Dean healed as well, slower than Castiel. It did not seem that his wounds would give him any long-time side effects besides from scarring. But as long as he healed, Cas was perfectly happy.

“I can’t do this anymore, Cas,” Dean had told him one night, breath tickling his neck. The arm around his waist kept Castiel from turning around to look at Dean in the dark.

“Can’t do what, Dean?”

“Keep pretending like this. I can’t.”

“Pretending?” Castiel tried to keep his voice neutral, but the way his throat tightened made it difficult.

Hannah had told him that Dean had been sitting beside his bed as much as she had allowed him to, and only the word of Cas waking up and giving him hell for not taking care had made Dean go to bed. She had often found Dean by Castiel’s bed again the morning after, snoring open-mouthed in the chair. Had he pretended to care about Cas the entire time? Had the sneaking in, holding his hand all been for the sake of some sort of show? 

“Yeah,” Dean said, hugging him closer. “I damned well can’t continue to pretend that we are just friends. I don’t want to know about you getting hurt as an offhand comment when I ask where my usual healer is.” Castiel could hear Dean swallow. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the other wizard’s words.

“So what do you want?”

“I want to be told as your next of kin,” Dean stated softly, holding his breath while waiting for Castiel’s answer. Castiel could feel the tension in the arm that was softly draped across his middle.

Castiel knew what he was supposed to answer. A hell yes, something certain and without a doubt in mind. Dean was his soulmate and to Castiel, he had slowly grown to be so much more than that. But the fear was twisting his insides uncomfortably. He wanted to trust. A very big part of him wanted Dean. Had wanted him since that day where Dean had chosen to leave. He had thought himself ready to forgive or so long if just Dean came to him, talked. But Dean hadn’t. It had taken an accident and a tour to the hospital for them to actually talk. He wanted to agree, to be informed as Dean’s next of kin as well. But he was still mad. Still hurt and scared, that if he said yes to be Dean’s, somehow, would it turn into heartbreak once more?

“Okay,” Cas answered, hesitant to agree. Thinking back at the year and a half without Dean, how his training as a healer had been the only thing keeping him from going nuts… there was just no way he could do without Dean. There had been a physical ache where he had gotten used to feeling the bond. But he was reluctant, fearful. Dean looked at him, pleading.

“I get that I hurt you, Cas. I don’t – I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again. Can’t promise I won’t be a fucked-up douche. But I’ll try. I’ll try my damned best. Do whatever it takes to convince you of that.”

“You didn’t just hurt me, Dean. You threw me into a pit,” he admitted, throat closing again.

“What do you mean?”

“Things weren’t pretty after you left,” he settled for as an answer, not wanting to tell Dean about the days off where alcohol had been his best friend. How Gabriel had found him passed out in his own vomit when a dealer had convinced him that the drugs he sold would make Castiel feel absolutely nothing. How the week-long break he was entitled to once a month was the worst happening, how he kept his level of alcohol so high that he did not feel anything during those breaks. He didn’t want to see the disappointment that Dean would surely show in that case. Didn’t want Dean to know what power he held.

“Tell me about it,” Dean breathed out in a manner, that made Castiel wonder if he had been the only one with things going south after they split up.

“I can’t,” Cas told him, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I can’t until I am sure that you won’t do that again.”

“I promise I will do everything I can to never put you through something like that,” Dean said, slowly stroking a thumb over Castiel’s arm. His movement was tender, his breathing uneven against Cas’ neck. Castiel closed his eyes for a moment, prayed to God or whoever would listen, that Dean would stay true to that promise. He was not sure he would come out whole from being left again.

“I drank away all time I wasn’t working. Volunteered to take extra shifts so I didn’t have to stay alone,” Cas told. His voice stopped at odd places like he could talk slow enough to stop the words if they came out wrong. “I took muggle drugs to not feel a thing. I felt so hollow. Like… like existing had lost all its purpose. Like I didn’t deserve the air I used to stay alive. I worked so hard I passed out more than once before I had managed dinner when I got home. Tried to make up for the fact that if my soulmate didn’t want me, I could damned well be the best healer, irreplaceable to so many others.”

Castiel continued to talk. He told Dean about waking up to Gabriel’s panicked face because he had taken just a little too much of the good stuff, or had swallowed it down with too much alcohol, he didn’t know. Told him about crying himself to sleep the days he didn’t pass out straight from work. How sorrow, low self-esteem, and worthlessness had slowly eaten him up from the inside, left him a hollow shell.

Until he had seen Dean there, in the hospital bed once again. It wasn’t magical, it wasn’t like he felt alright suddenly. But it had eased the pain, knowing that Dean wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. Had made him breathe just a little more freely.

And Dean kept quiet, listening. His breathing hitched occasionally when Castiel admitted doing something bad. Dean’s arm stayed tight around his middle and Castiel knew he was listening. When Castiel stopped talking, he wasn’t surprised to find that his pillow was soaked and his face wet. He hadn’t noticed when the tears had begun, but he found himself unable to stop them.

“I’m here now, Cas.” Dean’s voice was gentle and thick with emotion “I’m sorry I wasn’t there before. I’m not going anywhere. Not if you still want me.”

Castiel did not answer, could not. His throat was blocked by a large lump, his lungs so tight that his breathing sounded unhealthy in his own ears.

“Shush, it is going to be alright, angel,” Dean promised. With gentle movements, he got Castiel to turn around, directing his head so that he could hear Dean’s heartbeat.

“I’m not an angel,” Cas protested weakly. 

“You are to me.”   
Cas closed his eyes, let the steady beating and Dean’s gentle promises calm him. Slowly his breathing evened out.

“I want you too, Dean. I don’t want to know that you are hurt because you get yourself assigned to me by accident. I don’t want to be your doctor, I want to be at your bedside like Sam, like family.”

“Yes please,” Dean agreed. Castiel could feel the moment Dean decided to let go of the tight control he had held. It occurred to Cas, that Dean had not even shown him a fraction of what he had felt. Sadness, hurt, worry lined with hope and love hit him harder than the truck had, the bond overflowing with emotions that made Cas want to laugh and cry and do both at the same time. 

“I’m in damned love with you, Castiel. Have always been. I’m just a little thick, you see?” Dean whispered softly in the dark. His voice was lined with sadness, with sorrow for the years they had lost.

Castiel didn’t answer with words. Instead, he propped himself on the elbow and found Dean’s face. For the first time, he allowed himself the luxury of stroking Dean’s cheek. He could feel the way the muscles moved with Dean’s smile.

“A little, you say?” Castiel asked, leaning in until they breathed the same air.

Dean kissed him softly, lips gentle against Castiel’s. It was a kiss filled with promises, filled with love. There was nothing urgent about it, nothing desperate. Castiel kissed because he was finally allowed.

Castiel kissed Dean like the kisses could say all the words he found himself at loss for. He wanted the kisses to tell Dean how much he cared, how scared he still was. That he was more than willing to put in the time, the work, the effort if Dean was too.

Castiel had a feeling that somehow, Dean understood.


	17. Chapter 17

Castiel learned firsthand that a major concussion was anything but fun. High noises, bright light or quick movements made him dizzy. Hannah kept telling him that he had been lucky and that if he didn’t take care, his injuries could get permanent.

Hannah had agreed to let him out once Dean was fully healed. Dean had agreed to stay with Castiel, keeping an eye on him. Cas had scowled at Hannah, he could damned well take care of himself. Or so he had thought. The first time he had tried to go shopping for groceries, he had learned that he did indeed need Dean, the arrays of colors, people pressing past him, dizzying him to a degree where he almost threw up.

Dean did grocery shopping. Dean did the heavy lifting. Dean did most of the cooking (he was a lot better than Castiel anyway). It wasn’t something Castiel was entirely happy about, but he could feel throbbing nausea whenever he overexerted himself.

Gabriel came visiting often, making sure that they weren’t ripping off each other’s heads, as he said. If the glaring was anything to go by, he had not forgiven Dean for his apparition stunt.

The slowly got to know one another again. Long enough time had passed that he barely felt he knew Dean at times.

Dean admitted that he had talked with Jesse and Cesar after their first talk, that they had tried to get him to reach out to Castiel. But convinced as he was that Cas would want nothing to do with him, Dean had not.

“Things weren’t easy for me afterward,” Dean stated one night. He was holding a muggle-beer, something he had said he had grown fond of after their date to the burger joint.  
Castiel moved so he could watch his… his live-in boyfriend? Friend? Roommate? What were they? He had no idea, and that was a topic for another night.

Dean took a few chucks of the beer.

“Dad in prison, Sam in school. I was alone too. I have never been alone before. I don’t know. You don’t need to hear this,” he mumbled into the head of the beer bottle.

“I want to,” Castiel told him gently.

Dean huffed out a bitter laugh. “I started drinking too. Fire-whiskey burning my throat, numbing the mind. I tried to hide it whenever Sam was home. I didn’t have a job at that time, hadn’t been accepted by the Auror department yet. I had half a year by myself before I got the letter that they wanted me in, and at that time I was so deep down in the bottle that I couldn’t get through a normal day without having way too much alcohol in my bloodstream. I tried quitting myself, knowing damned well that the Auror department wouldn’t accept a drunkhead. I wrote to the Auror department, asking for a delay in my start date. They agreed, and I checked myself into rehab. Hadn’t even known it was a thing, but well, I apparently wasn’t the only wizard drinking too much to get through the day.”

Dean was quiet for a while, looking at the bottle as if he wondered what to do with it. “Maybe I shouldn’t be drinking. Recovered alcoholic or whatever.” Mumbling a ‘screw it’ he put the bottle to his lips, chucking down the rest. Castiel had seen no signs that Dean was unable to control his use of alcohol.

“I didn’t do drugs, but it wasn’t fun. I knew I had fucked things up with you, knew I had lost my soulmate of all things because I was too stupid and too influenced by my bigoted dad’s opinions,” Dean said, looking as if he considered getting up from the couch and get himself another beer. “I don’t know why I am telling you this. I guess I just want you to know that it wasn’t all fun and giggles, leaving you behind like that. But I freaked out, and I ran away.” Like the coward I am hung unsaid in the air between them.

Castiel moved to the couch, grabbing Dean’s hand reassuringly in the process. Not everything was okay between them, but they would work their way there. The mental wounds healed even slower than Dean’s physical ones.

“I have been thinking, Cas… Maybe I don’t want to be an Auror, after all. I am not sure what then, but… My dad has always wanted me to be one, and, well… I don’t know, I guess I never saw other options, you know? But I can’t keep living the way he would like me to. That almost cost me you, and I’m not doing that anymore,” Dean said, slowly stroking a thumb over the back of Castiel’s hand. His eyes were locked on something distant.

“I think that is a great idea, Dean,” he said, squeezing Dean’s hand.

“It just ain’t easy.”

“No, I know it isn’t.”

Dean frowned, mouth tight. “I wasn’t meant to be in Gryffindor,” he stated, voice so low that Castiel almost did not hear him.

“You weren’t?” he asked, baffled.

“No. I begged the sorting hat to place me there. ‘cause prior to taking off on the train, Dad had told me that real men end in Gryffindor. That Slytherin is for the dark wizards, Hufflepuff for the cowards and Ravenclaw for those willing to lick butts to get high grades. What kind of thing is that to tell an 11-year old?” Dean answered, voice emotionless once again. Castiel had noticed Dean doing that quite a lot whenever he talked about something too emotional for him to handle.

“The hat wanted me in Hufflepuff, and I begged, I begged so hard, Castiel, for it to not send me there. I don’t know why it listened, maybe it had been better if it hadn’t. I never told dad, just let him believe that I was a good son,” Dean swallowed, squeezing Castiel’s hand harder. “I’ve never told anyone this before. Sam doesn’t know, but I think he suspects it. I am not a brave man, Castiel. I am a lot of things, but bravery is just not on that list.”

“I beg to disagree,” protested Castiel.

Dean huffed. “Sure you do. But you like me, so you are hopelessly biased too.”

“And you are not, having grown up listening to all that?”

“Possibly,” Dean admitted, drawing a knee under himself. He almost hugged his own leg, still not comfortable with seeking out Castiel for comfort whenever something upset him. Castiel couldn’t help but ache at the gesture, wanting so badly to be the one Dean sought when in need. But maybe that would never happen and he could do nothing but accept that. So instead, Castiel inched closer until he had arms full of his favorite wizard.

“You know, if I had to have a soulmate, I don’t mind it being you,” Cas said, slowly carting his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“You didn’t always feel like that,” Dean pointed out, voice wooly as his head was pressed against Castiel’s soft sweater.

“I did. I was just so sure you wanted nothing to do with me that I liked to pretend otherwise,” he corrected.

“I didn’t know that.”

“No, you weren’t supposed to, dumbass. If you knew how badly I wanted you to like me too, I was afraid that it would give new reasons for bullying.”

“I never got around to say how sorry I am for the way me and Sammy treated you,” Dean looked up from the sweater, sincerity in his green eyes.

“No, you didn’t. But I figured.”

“How come?” Dean asked, moving so that he could watch Castiel while he answered.

“You agreed to go on dates with me. I figured you couldn’t resent me as bad as your behavior had let me believe if you wanted to date me.”

“I could have acted out of pity.”

“Yes, it could have. I just didn’t get that vibe from you,” Castiel smiled warmly. “Besides, I never really… I never really hated you. I hated the feelings I had for you because I truly did believe that your only purpose with talking to me was humiliating me. But it wasn’t, back there on the train, was it?”

“No,” Dean swallowed, licking his lips. “It really wasn’t. I thought... I thought you were cute. And that you looked utterly confused and lost as soon as your brother left you. I really did try my best to strike a conversation with you, but I gather it didn’t work out all that well, did it?”

“It didn’t,” Castiel agreed, “but I don’t believe I gave you a fair chance either. After all, you were just a snot-nosed kid.”

“You weren’t that much older!” Dean protested.

“Almost two years, and come on, the difference between someone barely 11 and one almost 13 is ridiculously big. I didn’t like you telling me about all the stuff that I felt that I was supposed to know solely because I was older.”

“Old grumpy man,” Dean laughed, leaning in. Cas rolled his eyes fondly before kissing Dean.

 

Somehow more and more of Dean’s stuff found its way to Castiel’s apartment. It wasn’t until they stood side by side in boxers one evening, brushing their teeth, that it occurred to Castiel how much he loved the domestic bliss they lived in.

“You should move in with me. Officially, that is. Because you already kind of life here, you know,” Cas rambled off while

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. He was smiling so widely Castiel wondered if his cheeks hurt.

It just felt as if Dean belonged in the apartment. Sometimes he invaded Castiel’s space. Having him move in officially would just settle it for sure. When Castiel for the 117th time on a day had to explain to Dean how to use the remote to the television, he was annoying too. But above it all, Cas loved watching Dean just walking around and doing everyday stuff. He loved how easily Dean had figured out the layout of the kitchen, moving around in there like he had always been living there. He loved listening to Dean sing in the shower, even though the green-eyed wizard refused to do so anywhere else.  
Mostly, he loved waking up beside a softly snoring Dean, stealing back the covers that had somehow found their way to Dean’s side of the bed during the night.

 

When he officially did move in the following weekend, he had very few boxes with him; most of his belongings had already found their way into Castiel’s space.

“Sam sends his congratulations by the way!” Castiel yelled while Dean unpacked a box of clothing.

“Sam writes to you to congratulate?” Dean yelled back.

Cas took the letter and walked back into the bedroom where Dean was setting up his stuff.   
“He writes that you are a grade-A asshole for not writing to him yourself and telling:  
a) that Castiel was admitted to the hospital b) you decided to move in with Cas to help him out and c) that you have fucking-finally decided to act upon your feelings. I think he is entitled to be a little insulted,” Cas raised a brow in a telling matter while Dean sighed theatrically.

“You invited him over, didn’t you?”

“Surprise, jerk!” Sam hollered, trapping Dean effectively in a full-body hug. Dean was usually not a small man, but being hugged by his younger and much taller little brother did make him look tiny. Castiel couldn’t help but grin.

“Don’t you have school to attend to?” Dean asked, flustered.

“That horrible joke is so old it needs a rollator to move around,” Sam rolled his eyes. “There is no further education within Muggle Relations.”

Dean sighed. “And I am guessing you have this weekend off?”

“Yup!” Sam agreed, nodding his head enthusiastically, hair flopping all over the place. Castiel grinned, pleased with himself that he had arranged for Sam to stop by. He knew Dean missed his little brother, even if he would never admit it.

Castiel got a hug too, though it felt more like being enveloped in body mass. Sam was probably going to grow in width. His body still had the dangly awkwardness of someone who had grown too much too fast.

“So, how are things going?” Sam asked, all serious.

“Better, thank you,” Cas replied, sending him a smile. “I am getting back to work part-time on Monday, and hopefully I will be declared fit for full time fast.” Sometimes he felt like Hannah babied him, but he had seen the effects of people not taking a head-injury seriously enough who ended with chronic pain or problems.

“I’m better too,” seconded Dean.

Castiel let the two brothers talk, aiming for brewing some coffee for all of them. He knew Sam would have plenty of questions and that it would take both time and energy to answer all of them.

He felt old. 

Sam and Dean joined him just moments after and from the way Dean’s face looked, Castiel was certain that Sam had given him the ‘do not run off again, jerk’ talk. They grabbed a cup of coffee that Castiel handed them before all three moved into the living room to sit comfortably and talk.

“So, Cas, how have you really been?” Sam asked. “I still wonder if I should have kept in touch, if it was a mistake to not reach out. I mean, you were my friend too.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” he admitted softly, filling cups with coffee. “And I could have reached out just as well, you know. It wasn’t your fault. But things are better now. We have talked. A lot.”   
He looked pointedly at Dean.

“I’m glad you have been willing to give Dean a second chance,” Sam told him, smiling fondly towards Castiel. “I know he can be quite a handful.”

Dean made a flapping gesture with his hands, trying to point out that he was still in the room while his mouth was filled with warm coffee.

“He hogs the covers,” Castiel deadpanned.

Sam laughed when Dean glared at Cas. “Oh, if that is your worst complaint I guess you are pretty much in love.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed before diving back into his coffee.

“Besides, Sam, I am not too sure I could have continued without Dean. Missing him… It felt like missing part of my soul, no matter how cheesy it sounds.”

Dean made an agreeing gesture, and Castiel wondered if he kept swallowing down the still slightly too hot coffee to avoid figuring out the words himself. It was easier to just agree, after all.

“When I saw him in that hospital bed.” Cas sighed softly. “I won’t say it was all magical and that things suddenly got good or that it made me the happiest man on earth. But something shifted, everything became more bearable just because I knew he was near.”

“God that is sappy, Cas!” Dean pointed out. “But yeah. Sappy or not, that is pretty much how it went for me too. I almost shat myself when I saw that Castiel was my healer. He acted so cold and distant and I knew I deserved it… but I didn’t want it, not like that. I wanted him to smile at me like he had done before. And then, when he was hit by that damned truck, I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t bear the thought of not being informed as next-of-kin but rather as an ‘oh, your usual healer? Novak? Well, he was hit by a truck’ side comment.”

Castiel nodded in agreement. Part of what had been bad of seeing Dean in a hospital bed was the fact that he would not have known unless he had worked there. No one would have thought to inform him.

“Does that mean you are planning on making things official?” Sam asked.

“Like moving in together?” Dean cocked his head.

“Or getting married?” Cas continued, knowing that Dean would never ask exactly that.  
Sam just laughed down into his coffee cup.

 

Sam ended up staying for dinner, asking questions and getting up to speed with what Castiel had been doing after Dean had disappeared on him.

Cas chose to go vague on how bad exactly it had been, not wanting to give Sam reason to be mad at Dean for something Cas had decided to forgive him for. He didn’t know if he succeeded, even with the limited and superficial talk he gave.

“You know, Cas, I asked Gabriel whenever we had Hogsmeade weekends. I know you are playing things down on me so I don’t get mad at Dean,” Sam remarked while Dean was in the bathroom.

Castiel sighed. “I seriously need to talk with Gabriel about telling others about my personal life.”

“Maybe. But it was the only way I had to keep some sort of eye on you and he knew that. Dean didn’t know anything and if he had I doubt he would have shared it with me.”

“No, he probably wouldn’t have,” he agreed. The door to the bathroom opened with a creaking sound and he made a mental note about doing something about the hinges.

Dean joined them at the sofa-table, lounging relaxed in the stuffed armchair he had insisted they bought. It was hideous, but given the amount of time Dean spent in it, Castiel couldn’t protest much.

“Did the healers ever figure out what was wrong with you, Dean?” asked Sam, giving Dean his best puppy-eyes so that he wouldn’t creep around the question.

“No, not exactly,” Dean told him. “Hannah, Castiel’s supervisor, suspected some incomplete soulmate-bond-stress reaction. That the two of us ignoring one another stressed my body and mind to a degree where healing was practically impossible. To be honest, I think she was right.”

“How come?” Cas chimed in. He had heard the theory before, but never Dean’s thoughts on it.

“’cause when you had been hit by that truck, the healing almost reversed. Really, it got so bad that Hannah had to take me to your bed with a wheelchair when I wanted to see you. And once you woke up and I could tell you got better, well, I healed. There is barely any scarring left at this point.”

“It is some powerful magic,” Sam commented.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded.

When Sam was about to leave the topic had changed to something much lighter, all of them laughing easily with one another. Sam complained about having to deal with Muggles, Dean admitted that he was thinking about a career change and Castiel told them about some of the hilarious cases he had encountered in his time as a healer. Apparently, wizards and witches had the same fascinating tendency to stick weird things in their body openings just to figure out that it got stuck. He was rather glad that he had not been the cucumber-case.

Sam gave both Dean and Cas bone-crushing hugs before leaving.

 

“We should invite him over more often,” Cas suggested when they lied on the bed beside one another.

“Mhm,” agreed Dean sleepily.

Sensing that Dean wasn’t up to any talk, Castiel gently stroked his back in calming motions until his hand was too heavy to lift. Snuggling close to the warm body, he slept blissfully.


	18. Chapter 18

It had been months of domestic bliss. Castiel could not quite believe how easy it was.

That was until he found Dean crying in the kitchen at 3 in the night. He could feel the bond tuck and pull in him, and Cas was sure that it had woken him.

Dean turned towards him but averted when Castiel tried to hold him close.

“Fuck Cas. I have no idea what I am doing here,” Dean confessed, hiccupping through the sentence with tears running freely down his face. “I don’t deserve this one bit. I shouldn’t be here. I am a fucking imposter, a freak show. What am I doing? Why did I ever think I could be good enough for someone like you?” Or at the least Cas thought that it was what Dean said, his voice too shrill with emotion.

“Please, Dean,” Cas begged, not sure what he asked for. Permission to hold him? To deny what Dean said? Over the past months, Dean had proved exactly how sorry he was, how ready he was to be his own man rather than the one his dad had created.

Dean deserved him.

Castiel was the one unworthy of Dean’s love. He couldn’t do anything to ease his soulmate’s pain, weren’t allowed to touch him when he was sad. A lump formed in his throat along with the already painful tug in his chest. He wanted Dean to be happy and he couldn’t do a thing as his soulmate sobbed, flinching violently whenever Cas neared him.

“Why am I still here, Cas? Why haven’t you send me on my way?” Dean cried, backing against the counter.

“I wouldn’t do that. Couldn’t,” Cas answered, desperately trying to fight back his own tears. But Dean’s pain kept bleeding in with his own. His frustration, his sorrow, his confusion. It became Castiel’s as well.

“YOU SHOULD!” Dean yelled, panting hard enough that Cas started to worry about hyperventilation. “You should throw me out. You should. You should!” Dean repeated, knees buckling under him as Castiel stepped in, catching him. They landed ungracefully on the fake linoleum tiles, Dean still sobbing wildly.

“I wanted to leave. I started packing. I couldn’t do it. Dammit, Cas, why can’t I leave you? Why can’t I give you back your freedom?”

Castiel had no answer for that. His hands were shaking, vision blurred. Realizing he was crying as well, he reached out for Dean, refusing to let him flinch away again.

“I don’t want my freedom, you stupid idiot. I want you. I always wanted you,” Cas told him, voice cracking with the heavy emotion behind his words. He had never wanted Dean to leave.

“I know, that is why I stayed,” Dean whispered, voice thick with sadness. “I don’t understand why. I don’t get you one bit. I thought about running for it. Again. And I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do that to you.” Castiel felt a heavy head on his shoulder. Dean sighed loud.

“I wanted to so badly. I almost did it. I don’t get why you are still here,” he continued. Cas hugged him tightly.

Dean swallowed thickly.

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Don’t be.”

“Yeah. I almost left. I should damned well feel sorry about that,” Dean mumbled. His voice was shaking, still on the verge of breaking.

“The important part is that you didn’t,” Cas assured him. He gently ran fingers up and down Dean’s back, trying to ground the love of his life while ignoring the loss he felt by the thought of Dean leaving. But as he had said, the important part was that Dean hadn’t.

Slowly Dean relaxed.

Castiel managed to get them up from the floor without falling. “You feel like going back to sleep?” he asked. Dean shook his head in response.

“I will make us some tea, then.”

Humming low he let the water heat in the kettle, choosing chamomile for something calming. He had a feeling that Dean wanted to talk more and both could use something calming

Cas sat down opposite of Dean, gently placing the cup in front of his soulmate. Dean kept quiet for a while, fingers around the cup as if he wanted the heat from it.

“I don’t know. I just… it suddenly got too much, you know? Going from being an unhappy bachelor to someone in a stable relationship. Living with you. Changing my career. I know I haven’t done it yet, but I am… I don’t know, Cas. I am sorry for getting you out of bed at this hour. I am sorry for making you worried and upset with me.” I am sorry for being a huge fucking disappointment hung unsaid between them. But Castiel knew Dean well enough to know that he wanted to say exactly that. It had been said so many times before.

Cas reached over the table, enveloping Dean’s hand with his own.

“I am not upset with you, Dean. I was worried and I was sad, yes. But that is part of being in a relationship. That is part of life. I am scared out of my wits that I will lose you one day. I fear that maybe, it is going to be you leaving me rather than natural causes when we are like, old and gray.” He squeezed Dean’s hand to emphasize the words, hoping that Dean would understand how much he meant them.

“I love you so, so much. I don’t think I could manage life without you. I most certainly do not want to try. Ever,” Cas continued. Dean kept his gaze down, staring at the cup like it held answers to the questions he hadn’t even asked.

Dean licked his lips, swallowed. “I don’t get that. I don’t get how you can just forgive me for all the hurt I caused you, for all the pain I made you suffer.”

“I didn’t just forgive you, Dean,” Cas told him gently. “I decided that I wanted to, back when I saw you in that hospital bed. I decided that my life had been miserable without you and that I wanted to try and see if you would make it better. So far, you have. But it wasn’t all easy to do, and sometimes I still find myself burning with anger because of it. I’m working on it.”

“I made your life a living hell for so long,” Dean insisted. Castiel wasn’t one to fall into that trap. It was an old discussion between the two of them at that point. Dean liked to blame himself, and while he certainly held some blame for Castiel’s difficult time in school, he was not the only reason things had been tough. 

“My life is better with you in it, Dean.” He wanted so badly to move around the table, to hold Dean. But he knew Dean would not approve, so he didn’t.

Dean laughed bitterly. “You keep saying that.”

“It is the truth,” Cas told him sternly.

“Yeah, you keep telling me that too. I just can’t help but wonder if you are too stupid for your own good. If you are with me because some sort of self-sacrificing stupid idea you have about me not being able to do without you.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. “I believe you’re fully capable, Dean. It is me I am worried about if you are not around.”

“What?”

“I haven’t told you exactly how bad it got when you weren’t here,” Cas said stiffly, wondering how much to say if any at all. It had not exactly been his proudest time.

Dean motioned for him to continue.

“I wasn’t just a bad case of alcohol and drugs. Gabriel ended up forcing me to live with him in my free periods. He didn’t trust me to be alone,” he started, “and it was with good reason. I didn’t take the drugs for the sake of just shutting out the thoughts. I didn’t want to be here, not anymore. I couldn’t see a purpose with continuing. It was sheer luck that Gabe came by and that he got me admitted to a hospital right away because the amount I had taken would surely have killed me without intensive care. I tried to convince Gabriel that it had been a mistake, that I had simply taken too much by accident. He didn’t believe me and with good reason. I was trained enough as a healer to know how much I could take without risking to overdose and he knew that.”

Cas sighed, withdrawing his hand so both folded nicely around his mug of tea.

“And while I was forced to work hard to get better afterward... And I got better, don't get me wrong. I got so much better," he swallowed. "It hasn’t been until you started living with me that I truly felt like life was worth living again. So please, Dean, don’t tell me that I would be off better without you. Because without you, I would rather be dead.”

Dean swallowed, his lower lip quivering.

“I’m so sorry, Cas, that I put you through that. I wouldn’t have left if I had known…” his voice was shaking as was the hand he reached over the table to Castiel.

“Water under the bridge and all, Dean. I am not mad, I don’t blame you. I put too much on you and pushed you before you were ready. All I am saying is that I am glad that you are here and that I under no circumstances would prefer you anywhere else,” Cas assured him. He gently squeezed Dean’s hand.

“Drink your tea, love, and come with me to bed.”

Dean nodded stiffly and obeyed.

It wasn’t until Dean’s naked form was draped around and across his own that Castiel started to wonder what Dean wanted to do, if not continuing as an Auror. Not that it mattered very much, Cas would be there to support him no matter his choice. If Dean was happy, Castiel couldn’t care less.

 

Time passed without Dean figuring out what he wanted to do. It wasn’t that he was unhappy with his job as an Auror, not as far as Castiel could tell anyway, but he wanted to sever the last ties to his father. John’s way of raising his sons had been bad parenting at best, abusive at worst and Cas understood Dean’s need to make the distance. He didn’t pressure, knowing that Dean would do what he felt the best.

“How do you feel about kids?” asked Dean one day, completely out of the blue. Castiel had stopped dead in his track, wondering where the question came from and why it had arisen.

“I’m cool with kids,” he answered. “Like them, mostly. Unless they are rottenly spoiled little brats, but well, it is mostly the parents I blame when that is the case.”

“Good,” Dean nodded but didn’t elaborate why he had asked, not even when Cast made his wondering head-tilt.

 

Castiel got his answers a few weeks later when Dean had announced that he had encountered an orphanage along with a case he had worked on and that this orphanage had made him think.

“I think I want to volunteer there,” Dean said, biting a nail.

Castiel hesitated for moments before speaking his mind; “I don’t think it is a bad idea, but are you able to do it without breaking yourself along the way? A lot of those kids are very damaged, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean swallowed. “I met a few of them on a case a few weeks back. And I think the place could do well with someone like me. I know I can’t save them all, I know I can’t suddenly fix their past or find them a family. But maybe I can make their situation a little more bearable, you know?”

And Castiel knew, Castiel understood. He had treated several orphaned kids in the hospital and the desire to bring them home and give them love and care had been overwhelming each time. It had hit him how much some of them reminded him of Dean.

 

But when Dean came home close to tears shift after shift at the place, emotionally worn out because of all he couldn’t do for the kids, Cas had to set a foot on the ground.

“I know you want to help Dean, but wearing yourself like this isn’t going to help anyone!” he argued, hoping to break through to Dean.

“But what am I supposed to do? I can’t just leave them there. You don’t see them the way I do,” Dean begged, breathing hard to hold back the tears.

“I see them when you bring them in for treatment. Don’t you think my heart is bleeding too? Don’t you think I want to wrap them up and bring them home and take care of all of them?” Castiel asked, voice hoarse with emotion.

“I wish there was more I could do,” Dean whispered. He looked so scared and so lost before Castiel hugged him, holding him close.

Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if fostering kids could be an option. He knew it was something done in the muggle world but wasn’t sure if the wizarding world did the same. It wouldn’t change the fact that some were too damaged to ever turn out normal and fully functional, but most situations could be improved greatly. If nothing else, having a loving and supportive home could do a difference, even for the kids worst off. He chose not to mention anything to Dean, unsure if it was an option. Didn’t want to give his green-eyed lover hope just to take it away from him.

 

As it turned out, fostering kids were an option in the wizarding world, albeit not very widely used as far as Castiel could tell. With material gathered and heart high with hope, he presented everything to Dean. The apartment wouldn’t be a good place to foster more than one child and they were still too young to really be considered. But it was something to work towards.

Dean kissed him with all the love in the world when Cas had presented him with the idea.

“I will work hard. Put the money aside for a farm or whatever!” he grinned, kissing Castiel again. His joy was overwhelming.

Castiel could not have been happier with the man who had turned out to be his soulmate. No matter the way Dean had treated him before, he had yet to encounter a man with a bigger heart.


	19. Epilogue

It would be a lie if Castiel said that everything had gone smoothly. Between him and Dean, there had been more heated fights than he could count, hurtful words yelled in anger. They worked towards getting better with one another, but putting the past on the shelf was harder than Cas liked to admit. Forgiving didn’t mean forgetting. He had days where he wondered what he did, why he kept wasting his time with Dean, the other man more stubborn than was healthy. . But those days grew rarer and he found them so, so insignificant compared to the love he felt towards Dean once he had calmed.

Dean worked with his issues, Cas having his back along the way. It was not always easy and Cas had to learn the balance between pushing too hard and pushing just enough.

Slowly they learned to communicate openly and with words rather than leaving or pushing one another away. Castiel was so damned proud of them.

 

They lived together in the apartment five years before applying as foster-parents. The first wizard considering them turned out to have a lot of negative opinions on “fairies” as he wrote in the papers. Dean was furious when reading the initial report, how the wizard had basically written that they were unsuited as parents because of their love for one another.

“Seriously Cas, can you believe this? I thought I had to defend my age or show the plans for changing the guest room into a nursery or bedroom for a kid. Or how we would childproof the kitchen. And then all he is fucking caring about is that we are dudes!” Dean waved the paper around, looking ready to tear it, burn it and then stomp on it.

Castiel ran a hand over his face, frustrated. Yeah, he could believe it. Dean had always been too popular for anyone to really take their bigoted shit his way in school and the same seemed to be the case for work. But Cas knew exactly how bad some reacted when learning that he was living with a man.

 

The second round they met a lot more respect and curiosity. Castiel still couldn’t help but worry about it until the official approval of fostering was owled to them.

They celebrated with heated sex.

“Goddamnit Cas, make me the happiest man on earth and marry me,” Dean had said, pressing soft kisses to his sweaty neck afterward.

Castiel had laughed, then agreed. They were about to have a kid. They were soulmates. The marriage would just make all the legal stuff so much easier and with everything else going on, it was pretty much a formality between the two of them.

 

Their wedding wasn’t big or grandiose. Neither had wanted that. Instead, they got vowed at a private ceremony, only their closest friends, and family present. Sam had been Dean’s best man, Gabriel Castiel’s. John had still been in prison and while Dean had been sad about that, Cas was not sure he had wanted Dean’s father present at their wedding either way. Jessica had been invited along with Sam. They had finally gotten together the last month of their time at Hogwarts. Charlie and Dorothy were there as well, looking stunning in matching dresses. Castiel had finally met Bobby, the man who had taken in Dean and Sam back when John had failed them so badly.

Seeing Dean in his best robes had made his eyes weirdly stingy. Castiel wasn’t one to cry at weddings. Not even his own. So what if Dean saw the moisture threatening to spill over when they leaned in for their first kiss as husbands? What if Dean’s teasing smile had been through happy tears as well? No one present would judge them.

It had been everything he could have ever dreamed about. He was allowed some tearing up.

 

Castiel had no idea why he had imagined foster kids to be, well, kids. Not teenagers. If he had to be honest, he had not expected them to get a young teenager. Jody Mills, the leader at the orphanage had told them that most parents looking to adopt went for the younger ones for smoother transitions. Krissy had been waiting for a home for years. Dean had met her back when he volunteered at the orphanage. She had been homeschooled at the orphanage, doomed to be too damaged and too much trouble for Hogwarts.

“I’m not trying to hide anything from you guys. I know it is a risk that foster parents gives up on the kids if they ain’t well-informed. Krissy has been through that before, so I ask you to consider things seriously before agreeing to meet her. She is a sweet kid, but she has massive problems,” Jody told them, mouth set seriously. She wasn’t kidding around with them.

“Krissy has tried running away at multiple occasions. She is restless and believes she knows best, no matter the case. She has attacked a random Muggle man because she was convinced that he was a vampire out to get her.” Jody sighed in a very mom-like way. “When she loses her temper, whether that being to anger, hurt or sadness, her magic flows wildly. We have been working hard with her to control it, but there is still a long way to go. She has been homeschooled for the same reason, we couldn’t risk her setting someone on fire or flooding parts of the Hogwarts castle because she got angry.”

It wasn’t said that Krissy was in dire need of a loving home, that the farm they considered buying would be a perfect option for her, far enough from muggles that she could lose her temper without anyone being in danger. They weren’t told with words that for each year passing, getting Krissy a place would be more and more difficult. She had already been in the system for over 5 years.

Castiel didn’t need to look at Dean to know his husband wanted to help her. Both knew she wouldn’t be an easy kid to deal with. And maybe, just maybe, they shouldn’t take in a troublemaker for the first one. Cas could feel how Dean had already made the decision.

“With all due respect, Jody, how come you think of us as an appropriate choice?” Cas couldn’t help but ask. He had wondered it during the entire meeting.

“For Krissy or kids in general?” Jody asked, serious suddenly. “Krissy needs someone who gets her. I can understand that both of you have some degree of troubled past. I appreciate the honesty your application held. I don’t know what exactly, but my gut tells me that you are good boys and that you can give her something this place can’t. That is why I have been so straightforward with you as well. I don’t want to send her off to another place that cannot handle her. She is a good kid, don’t get me wrong.”

Jody sighed, chewing the end of her thumb like she considered something.

“Yeah, I maybe would have preferred someone older. Someone experienced with foster kids as well. But my gut tells me you guys could be what she needs, and I have learned to trust my gut,” she added.

“We can’t promise it will work out,” Cas started.

“But we will do anything in our power to ensure that it does,” continued Dean, earning them a lifted brow and a small smile from Jody.

They small talked a little after that, answered Jody about their plans for a bigger place and their dreams for the future.

“When are you due to get the new place?”

“We signed the papers yesterday and plan to move in by the start of next month,” Dean told her, smiling brightly.

 

Jody brought them down to meet Krissy. As told she was both beautiful and charming, but around her eyes and on her forehead where edged the signs of someone who had to grow up too fast.

They agreed to take her in.

 

Krissy improved day by day. They kept Jody updated on her progress, knowing that the leader of the orphanage wanted nothing more but for her kids to succeed.

“You guys are so gross!” Krissy had cried out the first time she found them making out in the kitchen. Dean had flipped her the finger and Castiel had to scold him for his inappropriate choice of gestures in front of their kid. It had been a process, learning how to be parents and a family.

 

It wasn’t long until Jody contacted them again, letting them know that two new girls around Krissy’s age had made it to the orphanage. Rather than waiting around for someone to apply, she had taken the liberty to owl them, asking if they were interested in taking in two more. 

They had been hesitant. Krissy had been troubles, tears and love. She had adjusted well and no one doubted she would be able to fully recover. It didn’t mean she was ready to have siblings, especially not two at the same time. 

But as it turned out, Krissy had found the letter while they had gone for a walk, discussing the matter and simply stated, that she wanted siblings. 

Claire and Alex moved in soon after. Things with them went a lot smoother than with Krissy as neither of the two had been in the system for the prolonged period of time she had. 

Fostering turned into official adoption of all three girls. Dean celebrated by building another bathroom, claiming that three just wouldn’t do with three teenage-girls in the house. He turned out to be right. Four was very much needed.

Erity followed exactly two years after Alex and Claire. They applied for adoption of the tiny infant girl right away, knowing the system to be slow at best. 

Things worked out, somehow, for all of six them until Jody wrote again, begging them to take in another infant. Castiel had been hesitant at first, not sure it would disturb the balance they had made for themselves and their children. Dean had clearly not been satisfied with his hesitation, insisting that they at the least went to talk with Jody, meet the kid. 

Emem turned out to be the sweetest and most gentle infant. 

 

Castiel shook his head softly, the fond memories overwhelming him. Even though it had been hard at times, he had never been as happy as he was at that moment. Dean was arguing with Claire, Alex watching them with their arms crossed.

His eyes found the picture displayed on the shelf above the television. It was messy, filled with smiles and love. It was imperfect in so many ways, Dean’s eyes closed, Erity trying to crawl off the sofa and Alex desperately trying to catch her while Emem was safely on Cas’ lap. Claire was at the least smiling, probably because she had no idea that Krissy was making weird gestures behind her back.

[ ](https://image.ibb.co/iXKg7Q/Family_photo.jpg)

Castiel smiled as his eyes went from the picture and to his family. Never had he imagined himself with five children, two horses, and a dog. But there he was, happier than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been a lot in doubt in regard of the sexual assault between Castiel and Cole. Have I done justice to sexual assault victims? Have I made sure to deal with it, without it actually being the focus of the story? 
> 
> I don't in any way try to undermine the horrible experience it is. I've been there myself, and I still struggle with it. 
> 
> But the story is not focused on sex, and as far as I can tell, Dean never does anything to Cas, that would trigger a bad response. If Dean where to pin Castiel to a wall, I think that would cause troubles. But since the story isn't heavy on the explicit part I didn't feel like it would necessarily make much sense to actually go into depth with.
> 
> I think it is an important topic which no one talks enough about. 
> 
> I could go on about why I feel like this, what I think should be done to change it. Why I hate the way society treats the survivors.


	20. Appendix

This is basically a tiny appendix in case you are not terribly familiar with the Harry Potter terms and does not feel like googling it. I may have forgotten to add some, please let me know if that’s the case, and I will make sure to put them in here.

**My thoughts upon the world after the wizarding war and the story in general**

If you are familiar with Harry Potter, you also know about the great wizarding wars. I figured that it would be awkward having Cas and Dean placed alongside with Harry and take his actions into account, so I chose to place their schoolyears afterwards.

I also chose to put both boys into school later than 11 to put them off age (being 17 in the wizarding world) before they are drugged. For me it made great sense that there would be put a lot of time and effort into renovating the school, pushing young wizards and witches educations.

The war as such did not play a great role for Castiel, living as a muggle and fairly young when it happened. Gabriel went to school a year before Castiel because I wanted to have that gab between them. The school was renovated at that time, and albeit Cas was 12 at the time and old enough to start school I think that the school would have tried to push things out a little, making sure the age gap wasn’t as significant between classmates.  

 

**Houses and sorting**

In the Harry Potter universe, students at Hogwarts are sorted into four houses upon their arrival:

Gryffindor for the brave, daring and with nerve and chivalry. The house animal is a lion and the colors red and gold.

Hufflepuff for the hardworking, dedicated, loyal and fair players. The house animal is a badger and the colors yellow and black.

Ravenclaw values intelligence, knowledge and wit. The house animal is an eagle, colors blue and bronze.

Slytherin is for the ambitious, cunning and resourceful. The house animal is a serpent and the colors green and silver

Generally, there is a lot of rivalry between the houses. Slytherin has had an ugly rumor for harboring dark wizards.

House points is earned or taken as reward or punishment. They are counted throughout the year, and in the end of the year the house with most points wins the house cup.

 

**Muggle**

Word for a non-magical person.

 

**Dementor**

A dementor is a foul creature that infest dark, filthy places. They drain peace, happiness and hope out of the air around them. Dementors sucks out happy memories from those around them, slowly reducing humans to only their worst experiences. The kiss from a dementor sucks out your soul, leaving you unresponsive and unaware.

Before the wizarding wars dementors were used to guard Azkaban, the wizard prison. Patronus’ are used to ward of a dementor.

 

**Grades, O.W.L.’s and N.E.W.T.’s**

The grades in Harry Potter is as following:

Passing grades:

- Outstanding (O) (always continues to N.E.W.T. level)

- Exceeds Expectations (E) (usually continues to N.E.W.T.)

- Acceptable (A) (rarely continues to N.E.W.T.)

Failing grades:

- Poor (P)

- Dreadful (D)

- Troll (T)

O.W.L. (Ordinary Wizarding Level) is taken on the fifth year of Hogwarts and determine if a student is able to take their classes at N.E.W.T. level.

N.E.W.T. (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test) is the final exam on the seventh year of Hogwarts. The passing of N.E.W.T. level opens up for a lot of careers.

I’ve have chosen to take the grade of N.E.W.T. level into account for which job the students are able to take after school.  

 

**Auror**

An Auror is a dark wizard catcher; they are an elite unit of highly trained specialist officers. They uphold the law and protect the magical community.

Because the training is so hard only few qualifies.

 

**Transport in the Harry Potter world**

There are quite a few ways to transport one around in the Harry Potter universe. Two I have mentioned is Floo powder and Apparition.

Floo powder is a powder that a wizard or witch can throw into a chimney if it is connected to the Floo Network. Stepping into the flames after the powder, the wizard says the name of the destination (if the destination is connected to the network) and is transported to the chimney of that place.

Apparition is a magical method of transport. It is a form of teleportation. The wizard or witch performing it have to be very focused so they don’t end up the wrong place or risk splinting (part of the wizard left behind). It is described to feel like being “forced through a very tight rubber tube”.

 

**Quidditch**

Quidditch is a wizarding sport flown on broomsticks. It is highly popular in Hogwarts.


End file.
